i went into his basement, and pulled many cigarettes from his unopened pack, but i think he would understand

i am drunk

and then i a beer, i broke it's lip on the refrigerator door because i didn't have a bottle opener and i wanted it's coolness down my throat

i burned my throat tonight on unexpected shots with my sister and her boyfriend

and i showed them my books, and my sister was sad that i never thought to show them to her before and he was full of silly compliments, silly words about art that i couldn't take seriously at all. and it's not a snob thing at all, it was just the strangest thing to hear out of his mouth

"i don't mean for this to sound bad, but i never knew you had talent"

ok, thanks

and it made me wonder, before my shots, how people saw me just...you know, saw me. and it's not like i expect people to know me easily,

i have been told too many times that i am a "hard person to get to know" or that i am "a mystery".

but i don't feel like i am hard to get to know.

i think this is denial, i think this is me not being clear at all about how i present myself outwardly.

and i stole from my brother his space, i laid on his bed while i smoked, i listened to his records and wished he was there.

i wrote him a letter on a paint covered board, i left my book on his bed

and my flashlight too

tonight is filled with backwards poetry,