"Fucking bummer.
Not having friends is."

get what you give, baby.

last dregs coat the tongue like
dead possums in the mouths of eager dogs, like
big-bellied fools asleep in garbage cans, like
no-tooth smiles and yawns mid-
sentence.

I can't breathe anymore
can't breathe anymore, can't be
can't be
can't be


any




more. 

pop all the speech bubbles.

on every situation ever in my life:

I am glad
and I am not.

"Why are you eating so many peaches?"
"Because if we are what we eat, I want to be peaches."

it becomes more and more difficult to suck the poison out of your life when it is slowly sinking into your pores, your body sipping from it's cup, when it begins to bond with your DNA and your skin turns from peaches to grey ash. when you scrape the bottom of your stomach for something but there is nothing left of you, only poison, only
poison.

(give) me room, a little more, a     little                   more

belly is bloated with falsity, my breath is barely

there, I am -holding- back because I have nothing to  

       

                (give)

                 to you 

             I have no-

                  thing to 

                         (give) 

I'm sorry, 

I'm sorry.