washing (hands)

washing my hands maniacally

repeatedly trying- seemingly in

vain, futiley- to get them clean

of all this blood

and love

is dripping from the little ‘life’ lines,

the cracks in my hands and screaming

laughs/laughter at me

oh god! please, put me on the nod-

this shit isn’t strong enough and now

it is all gone and the dealer’s office is

closed till 10:00 am in the morning

i am mourning

oh god all this blood

all this love

so let me get this straight- sorry i am, i

have a tendency/a leaning towards being

‘gay’ in fact my step-dad used to say that

the only thing about me that was straight

was my teeth...cus he spent all that money

on braces- so, n-e way let’s clear this up

once

and for

all [this blood! and love!]:

my life, our lives can’t be

like rap songs, like these

movies i see on the big

shiny screens?

yr heart isn’t racing

because of these skin-tight

jeans tonight

you aren’t dreaming

of me

dreaming

of you?

tell me

it

isn’t

true?

what am i going

to

do

without

you

?

what am

i going to

do without

sleep

i can’t dream...

[and...these hands, those manos

are still unclean, still dirty

and all this pain is seeping out from

the inside; can’t be contained, also

it smells like cocaine outside

tonight

i want to die,

i wish to hide

my messy hide].