Puncture Wounds

i feel like ice cubes in las vegas make as much sense as we did when every now and then you could get caught forgetting yourself and remembering why you hadn't sent me home yet but then somewhere a breeze blew static into the ancient antenna rigged up just so and we lose the connection and i am consumed by the facts i bite down on my bottom lip until blood tastes like your armor it feels familiar foreboding and tinny like rust and what else we have left after rainy seasons pass

like lightening bugs flash and suffocate from the simple fact that they were wanted and watched too much and with artificial closeness that makes more moments for me than need be and more jars like death traps i was too in love with the sight of lightening bugs and flashes of what could be magic show mysteries headlined by mother nature maybe too readily i applauded and stood up on tiptoes like you might notice me more if i was childlike eager and in the end it mattered less to you and the summer and what was burned out

at my own fingertips inside a vacuum like jelly jar but even now still i trip over what i might miss for too many years from now even though i fault myself for thinking that desperate and friendship add up to

of.course and in my haste to forget how loud and unnerving alone sounds can be lately i proved that you might have been right after all the minutes and nights i went missing inside mind mazes of my own design and what-if games i played while your chest and my hopes for a life with love or something like it would rise and swell all full of life and potential only to fall and concave your rib cage became without much life left between us to fill you up diesel fuel smells like your thumbs which you flash to appease me and it works temporarily every time on me only to find me fidgeting nervous in nights after this one spent bruising my knees on the wall where i stupidly play sleeping sane person knowing full well

where the edge of the single bed is and still smacking my shins black and blue every time the lights in my room go out like the fireflies still sitting reminders of what i didn't poke holes in for once in my life and if the inflection in my voice gives me away well you already know why and why not stop shaking inside like fault lines diverging beneath some metallic sealed surface you shine like the promise of some forgotten-about penny left heads up for my eyes to find before yours and you let me bend down to claim my parking lot prize because you know, afterall, that i need good luck

like flies in jars need airholes and you need me to try harder to keep it together and pulled apart we might find ourselves more nights than not in these watered-down type of times when nothing said is the worst you could drop on my head like an anvil or anchor a dead weight sometimes awful what lead must feel like my heart i picture morbidly like some nightmare recurring where you and i starred in our private drama and only

i watched it unfold as you thickened my skin with your word whipping left me to lick my wounds and howl at the moon i never know if it's full or new or when to let it go like you.