for alyssa II
 

she's

pallid and small. blankets and shawls. her mirror is bleak
facing music, eyeing wanderlust. Ms. heroin cheek
scared of the weekend, very deceitful, frozen appearance
carrying demons. toner and tears. all bones and brasier.
mopey and anxious, married to sequins sewing her seams
smoking nicotine like prayer inside her mother's cathedral
heroic eagle caged in pigeon coops, co-op her retrieval
a choice between her father's voice and popping a needle
i told you once it killed me slowly watching you breathe
so heavily you sighed until your body conceded
to misery. to memory. to words from a novel
you've searched inside abstraction for an earthly revival
found empty plastic sandwich bags and mortar and pestle
bored behind norco and unimportant potential
a poor memento, my affliction, my affections in type
reflect on who you were in search of selfish respite
7 at night. walking aimlessly in search of a light
matchstick crackle tasting sulfur in our Turkish Delights
bourbon and soda. burning bright that midnight herbal aroma
she passed out dead on the sofa
words on her tongue, a can of Squirt on her coaster
Feynman in her epitaph and dirt on her shoulder
the hurt came right away but the desertion would smolder
i kinda write for you, somehow. it's nobody's business
how i chose to make your ghost a religion. alone at the christening
prone to reminiscing with a penchant for sorrow
in search of praise if only for some pleasure to borrow
better tomorrows as they promise in those meetings in rooms
coffee's complimentary and speaking is useless
modeling me after you. brave-hearted elegant sharp
i'm never far from anywhere we crept in the dark
i'm never far
we sang our songs in every restaurant or bar
but the chorus passed and now i can't remember your part.
irish breakfast and coughs. altoid can and a spoon
if i write that you're alive it almost makes it the truth





goodbye

Damn dude, a lot of grievance and sadness in this one packed with elegant penmanship. Dunno if this is fiction or not but it came off to me as deeply personal with a lot of self reflection and no bs honesty. Quite a few straight forward sentences that are felt throughout like the "fathers voice or popping a needle" and "pleasure to borrow"-line. Beautiful piece with lots of emotion too many can relate to. Hope you're doing ok.

Great piece throughout but loved how it just kept finding ways to one-up itself and keep the momentum rolling. Loved the imagery and vocabulary throughout just really added to the piece and i loved reading it throughout. Good personal story and relatable as well to someone who's lost anyone.

This is right up their with the piece you wrote about your father.

In a way, it’s written almost as if it provides context and closure to all the other half written love poems and soulmate eulogies you’ve blessed us with over the years. Poignant, visceral and emotive — visual and empathetically written with both her ghost and the audience in mind. Impressive. Loved it. Peace.

Some heavy shit. Real or not, it was felt. And that's a job well done.

she passed out dead on the sofa
words on her tongue, a can of Squirt on her coaster

Damn, that's saying a lot with saying so little.

This is a very deadman piece so it's good

It's hard to quote sections of your pieces bro, I like some shit then like other shit lol...You have this amazin' ability to get words across to whoever reads it in some raw like fashion, yet it's emotional...it resonates...like ACTIVATE said, this is right next to that Father joint you penned up, I did read that btw...this was killer Black.

Stay safe, & you.

ya know, every now and then i sit and think about how people i'll never see again have come into my life and changed me entirely by accident, and wonder how often i've served that purpose for others in some small way, without even a single fucking clue

Um. Yeah. We're gonna need a verse out of this.

loving an addict is hard.

I don’t know you. I don’t even know why I came into the open mic forum. I clicked on this for some reason and I’m so glad I did. As a recovering heroin addict, and somebody who has seen this exact imagery, I’m feeling all sorts of stuff right now. You have a talent that can’t really be put into words.

Fact is you're a influential writer, I actually try & fuck with topicals because of your pieces...the way you tackle the topic, make it your own...it's inspirin' tbh.

I lost several people to overdoses just in the past couple years and sadly, you get jaded to it all. Or your denial system kicks in and protects you from grieving them the same way you’d grieve someone who died suddenly in a car crash or a heart attack. Probably not explaining it right. But, a couple months ago, a friend of mine ODed. Didn’t even see a relapse coming so it was a real shock. This one hit hard man. And that was all I thought about, how we grew close for only a year or so before this happened. I went to the funeral and I’d never met any of her family before and I introduced myself to her mom and she cupped my face, cried. And said “So YOU’RE the Nicole she always talked about. She absolutely loved you. So much.” And it surprised me bc I didn’t realize the impact you can have on so many people and how they can forever affect your life without even realizing it while it’s happening. Idk man.. thank you for this read. Sorry for the ramble

You tackled a deep subject well here, the rhymes schemes was stellar yes, in addition I say you really have a way with words and conveying a specific tone at that. I found no fillers here. Probably the best I've read on here so far.

man this was so good. intimidating, even.

*chills*

This is crazy,

I especially like the little bits of imagery and feel in phrases like this... they really hit

mopey and anxious, married to sequins sewing her seams

matchstick crackle tasting sulfur in our Turkish Delights

just a few examples that highlight your style here

that closer is heartfelt and fire. Dope stuff all round, sir