pompeii

Maybe this post is pointless, but I need to vent.


In the past two days, I did a drug I swore I'd never do again, spent hours on a front porch crying, hid from a stalker, was rendered homeless, made the choice to move tonight with absolutely no planning, had literally all of my possessions stolen aside from the clothes on my back and a bag consisting of only my server apron, two Vonnegut books with a letter inside that never got sent, my wallet and various liquor company paraphernalia, made and received several phone calls to and from the police department, was kicked out of the only place I had to go at two in the morning in the pouring rain by who I still think might be the love of my life, slept in a motel six, took a ride from a stranger out of desperation and had my cab fare given back to me by a driver out of pity, all the while intermittently stuck in a hail storm. I woke up this morning under the layers of blankets in one of the cheapest motels in one of the cheapest parts of town, naked because my clothes were still sopping, entirely alone, and throughout the day while waiting to utilize my one-way bus ticket out of town I've cried (in a starbucks, on the street, in a public library typically frequented by the homeless...), I've laughed at the ridiculousness of my life (realizing that I, too, was now one of the homeless frequenting the public library, etc), I've sent pathetic messages to a boy who doesn't feel, I've wondered "why me."


Now, I'm pissed.


I've been complacent for a while now, hoping that if I coast for a while I'll be able to breathe and figure out how to keep up with the speed of the thoughts in my head and I'm realizing, ever so slowly, that the reason I can't keep up is not because I'm not adequately equipped to, it's because I'm jogging next to their sprint. And I'm pissed off at myself for allowing myself to be weaker than I am, and I'm pissed off at the people who believed my charade for not seeing through it.
Maybe I needed to ruin everything to get it all back, but all I can think is that the best way to do this is not to lay in a bed I don't own and wallow, it's to punch the world in the fucking face. Now that my entire life has been smashed into bits, I can rebuild, and I can finally take what's mine from the assholes who think they've won.


Sorry I've chilled out for so long, everyone. I forgot who I was.
And now the bitch is back :)


- Loch


p.s. to the boy who doesn't feel, I'm not sure if this is over, but if it is and something so basic could ruin what we had, if this is really what it all comes down to, I just want you to be prepared,
you'll miss me when I'm gone.

And I swear I walk with God

My life lately-
Waiting tables
New favorite bars
Ex marines
Power couples
Poetry
New enemies
New friends
New frenemies
Bad horror films
Whisky
Running away.

"And he wore his gun outside his pants,
For all the honest world to feel."

-loch

Girl that's all that we do

"I just want some head and a comfortable bed,
It could all be so simple"

- loch

Follow up,

"We found the new religion,
No sins where there's permission"

-loch

I am the kid with the motor mouth

''I am the one you should worry about''

Making the best worst decision ever. I'm in love :) poetry to come.

-loch

Countdown

Bars are the same everywhere.

I'm fucked,
-loch

Not very pretty

Life isn't being happy, it isn't fucking easy.
Live is living, and living isn't a motherfucking carnival ride. Life is about feeling everything.

I'm not done.

-loch

We live in cities

-----

We are
Twisted and ancient
We have lasted through ages
And we are so fucked.
Maybe we are dying
Bars and
Midnights
And two o'clocks
And your front stoop
Breathing over nicotine lips
Sighing problems to your oak tree.
Maybe we are dying
But
I never really liked my name that much
Until I heard the taste of it
On your lips.

-----

^in case anyone was wondering how my weekend went! Ps I wrote that.

-loch

cause it's hard to say no

I'm alive, goddamnit. 

-----

Another night lying in your bed,

asleep in your clothes,

Your beard against my hair.

Another on the list of days

Running seven months long,

My drawer still preserved

In your room, an artifact,

My toothbrush a fossil

Of old comforts now dead.

I have spent hours

Tracing hair on your chest

creases on your face

lines on your back

and I have found, indisputably,

all roads on that map

lead back here.

-----

-Loch

Ain't nobody perfect

-----

I don't remember days,
I remember black stilettos
laying on trampolines in tears
walks home from downtown
stumbling under chandeliers
I remember
Sitting on your front porch
Chain smoking with your sister
Falling into chain fences
Dancing under oak trees
sweating under tanning oil
Tears in my ginger beer
I remember
The twist in your beard,
You're in my pulse, you fuck.

-----

I wrote that,

-loch