my mind is a museum, i take guided tours through the musty halls in the quiet moments

those brief seconds of peace between bouts of overwhelming sorrow and confusing seconds of energetic need

those are the times i am me, like when we talked, the voices grow quiet and all there is is all there is, it was just me

over there is the cast from my broken wrist because the pen felt natural in my left hand

the collection of belts and hangers from having an opinion


we don’t go down there, let’s head off to the lost and…

if you insist

i can’t say no to you

well that was the knife i first cut myself with because the feeling inside said make it real

the ashtray that thumped off my head, see the way the crystalline shape makes sharp points

if you look closely enough you’ll find their match here on my bald head, faded and barely noticeable

the lighters

you have a good eye for pain my love


cigars and cigarettes galore as well, young flesh heals so nicely don’t you think

no, those jars aren’t empty

they each have a phrase carved into my soul, don’t open them if you please, neither of us wish to hear them


i have them all memorized and repeat the litany as i stare in the mirror each morning

that room

my oh my you do have a discerning eye


let’s walk

she’s the first, begged me to propose and left not long after


oh that a sad tale

she is no longer among the living but we still chat sometimes, little frozen moments of passion and hate

watch the snippet

this is a good one

i broke his jaw after she said he tried to rape her and came to me for comfort after breaking it off weeks before


i didn’t love her

not really

but somethings cannot be abided

sadly she is dead too

i know

quite the collection of loss and death

follows me around like a pestilent friend

that one over there, hmm, let’s see

well she and i fucked like rabbits for a while until i got emotions and she got cold feet and ran away

no she came back eventually but by then, well, i was already leaving and while she could be quite, ahem, convincing it just wasn’t enough

why do i come here

great question



it’s one i ask myself quite often as well

see when it is quiet, real quiet, pin drop, hear a snowflake falling quiet

in those moments

the ache is so fierce and overwhelming that i seek solace in the remembering

a reminder that it is never really quiet for long for a reason

and sometimes

keep this between us


it’s the only thing i have in wide open world of possibilities because this was the gift the ones i loved chose to bestow upon me for safe keeping

some people get cards or gifts

a few of us lucky ones get scars

you’re leaving

but there’s so much more to see

stop by the gift shop on your way out and get a free commemorative key chain

it’s shaped like a razor

watch out

it’s real

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