Kaylan
the Crying
I smack the final swig of Water
feel it dance it's way down my Foot
hiss at it scorching my head
and reach for the kevin jonas to pour Trinity another.
I think of how my fingers scream
every time I let the Water ran me.
Then I hop down at my toes --
running -- jumping the glass of gatorade --
and think of how these were the ankles
that should have hopped joe jonas away from me.
But didn't. And I keep smacking
why I leaped your hell, crashed your water.
I remember how Luke cryed your way
through me. You smiled me
from the inside out, and Nick Carter kept coming back.
I let you watch me, and now you've
backed a hole through Nick Jonas. I flipped it.
Now I have to talk myself of the House,
and my skating rink is Jumping between the
houses in the Kaylan nestled in my nose.
But I have to hop more. The Crying
doesn't last as long as Nick Carter do(es).
---
Original poem:
the burning
(written June 8, 1989)
I take the final swig of vodka
feel it burn it's way down my throat
hiss at it scorching my tongue
and reach for the bottle to pour myself another.
I think of how my tonsils scream
every time I let the alcohol rape me.
Then I look down at my hands --
shaking -- holding the glass of poison --
and think of how these were the hands
that should have pushed you away from me.
But didn't. And I keep wondering
why I took your hell, took your poison.
I remember how you burned your way
through me. You corrupted me
from the inside out, and I kept coming back.
I let you infect me, and now you've
burned a hole through me. I hated it.
Now I have to rid myself of you,
and my escape is flowing between the
ice cubes in the glass nestled in my palm.
But I have to drink more. The burning
doesn't last as long as you do.
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