My feelings for you lie between love, hate, and pity
and I no longer have it in me
to listen to you talk all pretty
the same night you drink and treat my mom shitty
To sleep with my phone on nine
ready to reach for one
because I no longer trust you with her life.
Everything you instilled in me has been undone.
Unraveled in your lust for liquor
in the anger you display.
I fear you but not the effects on your liver
because I’m at the point of
“Whatever makes you die quicker”
so that I don’t have to hear this anymore
you pounding on the door
stomping on the floor
Selfishly thinking others must endure
something you can’t control
and don’t even try to.
What do you do when your hero falls
and you don’t even care that mine’s was you
and you’ve fallen from the face of grace
The one man, who’s supposed to make me feel safe…
You’ve fallen from grace.


Act of Malice


Did you ever think your son could commit such an act? 

With his own hands he could take another man’s life?

Wondering where he could have learned that?

Have you come to terms in your own lives? 

Because I haven’t in mine

For the past 6 years you raising a murderer has possessed my mind. 

And for 6 years I have wished your family agony

Even though I know tragedy plus tragedy just equates to greater tragedy

And I get nothing out of pain to your family. 

Nothing will bring Gabe back. 

I’ve cried enough the past 6 years agonizing over the simplest of life’s fact 

When you’re dead you’re gone – there’s no changing that. 

Every night pleading he’ll come back never works. 

The last 6 years I’ve lived in a constant state of hurt.

Having to wonder why your son, your offspring, could throw my brother’s body in the back of a trunk,

let his body lay in Neff Lake for over a month – 

Then you, you being the one to see his body float up

Decaying, thinking just another stupid injun drowned drunk 

But then your son goes on the run

and you claim not to suspect anything.

He’s innocent you think 

while I pour another drink

Hoping your son gets shanked

I pray even without the drink. 
Could you ever believe

He’d cause so much pain in others? 

Because I still can’t believe he took away my brother…


Get By

Listening to the effects of death

13, it started with weed progressed to meth. 

She tells me her sister is dead

and she feels her soul and head

feel the same. 

She can’t sleep in her bed. 

She’s up all night

court ordered to abstain

but it’s a fight. Every night is a fight. 

She sees her sister walk by

she takes a shot of Tequila, so sly. 

Sits in a circle of friends.

Puts the pipe to her lips

So it begins once again

Life slips through her young fingertips.

She gets high

thinking it’s the only way to get by. 


The only thing I gotta prove
is I can handle this proof
Laughing acting like a fool
until the feelings bottom out
after being bottled up.
Head dizzy and full of doubt
it gets to be too much
Suddenly I wanna prove
I’m stronger than the abuse.
Pick a fight or two
I’m bulletproof
and can take on any of you.
5’3 but I can stand 10 feet.
Once meek but this bottle helps me speak
Fuck it – I get loud
like my dad I can fucking shout
and lose control of myself, fists, and mouth.
Black out but this swig helps me out.
Fist clenched I can take out
any son of bitch
Bottle clenched and I take another swig.
I feel so big.
Days later I’m still not off of it
I can’t quit or I lose my confidence
Both fists clenched
Another bottle to swallow my pain.
Pick a fight to release that pain.
I can’t quit or I feel the shame…
I wanna feel bulletproof
I’d rather face this proof
than own up to the truth:
I’m not stronger than the abuse
Despite being bulletproof…

Fixing It

From 2010. Just found it.

We each die a little more each day
Some of us can’t wait while others just got to take another’s away.
Suffice to say, it’s what has caused me to fuck up
Take medicine to fix it
but gotta increase because Seroquel isn’t enough.
Another therapist visit
Lies that I don’t drink
But I see my Unni sees through me
The disappointed face is enough to know what she thinks and she’s right about what she sees:
A problem with problems who accepts the problems and is too far gone in her head to solve them.
Too far gone in spirit so I down the spirits until their bottle is like me – numb and hallow.

Here’s more pills to swallow
Here’s another shot to down.
It’ll be the same tomorrow
I’ll allow myself to drown
to relieve the pain.

I got people to blame
Important people to push away
Before I spread the pain
Then pull back because I need them that day.

Buy another bottle to numb my dying existence
Pop more pills because the doctors said it’ll fix “it.”


Dreaming of relapsing
Running down down ends
Worrying about best friends
Detracting –
Depressed on edge
Over thinking once again
Reattaching –
To old habits
of an addict
Reacting –
from bad to baddest
to “what the hell happened?”
Relaxing –
1, 2, 3
Deep breath and breathe
There’s no relapsing
it was just a dream.


Two years old…

Just wanna be done with addiction/Done with the friction/Done with working on forgiveness – forget it
All the egg shells walked on
All the times I justified that it was us wrong
Falling for a drunk’s cliché
Seeing through his beer goggles
Believing what he has to say
He didn’t do it
He didn’t mean it
It’s all so stupid
He doesn’t believe it
Not him, he’s not capable of being abusive
Not him, we had it coming.
Don’t provoke him & there’ll be no problems
Don’t provoke him & there’ll be no violence.
The assaults & verbal abuse, easily forgot them
Move on in hostile silence.
He doesn’t remember
It’ll be better if we all pretend together
That it didn’t happen. It didn’t happen. It didn’t happen.
It’s magic.
It’s addiction.
It’s not the true Jim. It just isn’t.
It’s denial. It’s clichés. It’s him. He did it.
I no longer need convincin’.
It’s addiction. It’s friction. Until you’re done with it, I can’t work on forgiveness. Forget it.