Memphis is dead, New York is comatose
Detroit is alive and breathing
Writhing and thrashing for now, for now
I am sticky with love and sick with guilt
The image of God is in the city smog, watching me
Cry on the bathroom floor of a man
who treated my beauty as some disease
Watching me chop the tail off a squirrel
we found dead in the road with a machete
and nail it to the porch
Watching me split wood in the backyard
with my weak arms and diaphanous dress
Watching me with my head in the toilet
vomiting up a gut full of PBR
Watching me hold back tears during sex
because touch is a fleeting deity
Watching me smoke my lungs into an early oblivion
Watching me read the script of Paris, Texas
Picturing myself as some Travis in the desert
Wandering for miles after setting fire to what I love
Watching me tear the inside of my lip open with my own teeth
Watching me sing "Bullet Proof
I Wish I Was", wishing truly that I was
Watching me take a deep
deep breath as I feel that I am almost somewhere
Watching me dry heave onto the page
Watching me wish my old lover a very happy birthday
Watching me pretend that this time
I really know what I want
Watching me find hope, watching me lose it
Watching me and doing nothing but laughing
Again, I am nowhere to be found
Life consists of love and it's subsequent hangovers