Brett Bennett

How long would you have stood in limbo, waiting for them to walk in?

by Brett Bennett

I remember when you walked out of the bathroom

I was listening to Neil Young

crackle and pop on vinyl

“Are you trying to get sad?”

asked as if you don’t do it too

Endless nights of frigid friends

telling tales of poverty and stepfathers that wove

into each other

Like your hands entwined

Never mentioned again.

did you think about me

I remember listening to your cassette lonely nights

Missing the screens on subways telling you where you are

Each day that week a lifetime,

reminding me there was nothing different between us and them

you and me

Still telling me you want to kill yourself

They always tell me they want to kill themselves

in the end.

It’s the alcohol,

it’s that spinning of the record you bought

when you thought you couldn’t sink any lower

but your friends found you in the bathroom

knife pressed against neck.

did you think about me

Jefferson I Think I’m Lost

by Brett Bennett

i. (Chasing Everclear with Beer, Or)

touch the grain of the canvas

you wake up in someone else’s shower

you wake up

bruises on your hips

stop

peeling the skin away

I know you don’t care about your organs any more

but what do you care about

let your eyes disintegrate

“take my eardrums with me”

even the sidewalks bring you down

“I used to walk by that car detail shop every day”

leave before every landmark means something

ii. (I Heard You Wanted to Kill Yourself Secondhand, And)

your words don’t make sense

at least not in that order

you are parting your hair weird

you are standing in the bathroom not letting anyone in

shaving away anything that reminds you of me

you want painkillers but no one will let you

escape the way you want to

Yours are the only windows intact

smash them,

I want to know you still feel something

iii. (Washington, I Think We’re Lost)

I was in the backseat and you drove me

the coffee burned my tongue and I never returned

too many people to avoid

too many ghosts I can’t face sober

Only in bars did I think I could be ok and then you stood there

daring to show your face

punch me I want to hate you

I want to hate you for what you did to me

but you pull my hair and it’s not enough

fight back fight back fight back you fool

“I want a cigarette and I don’t even smoke”

“I want a cigarette and I don’t know what I do”

It’s midnight, it’s October, the wrong combination of numbers throws me off

the same gas station attendant works every place in town

knows I buy four 40s and don’t have a date

knows which pack I should smoke

I used to keep my cards in the back of an American Spirit pack

then it snowed too hard and I waited too long to text a boy from Mississippi

waited too long because I can’t have a boy but you until I move away for good

Thinking about you in the state of enchantment

by Brett Bennett

I want to take you to the west

where the trees cover the mountains in patches

and houses cling to the sides

scientists and loners

off the grid

The gold always goes

and the coal coats your lungs

as it spills out

the mountains taunting

the church new but empty

because the bar is named Mary’s

and what more does a Catholic

really need

Brett Bennett lives in Athens, GA where he studies history and works for the college radio station. He’s been published in The Traveling Poet, Bottlec[r]ap and has published Dead Friends Zine, a collection of art and poetry. His website is brettbennett.wordpress.com.