of quiet and
quiet and quiet.

whispers are all too much

lie down
and let me listen
to you.
Your breath moves me.
I swear
     your pulse is music.

I’ve never liked wine anyway. I imagined the glass slipping out of my hand and drifting down onto the white carpet to shatter, the pieces of silver flying and dancing passionately away from the deep red stain. What would it be like if I just slipped my hand… I would be terribly, oh so sorry, of course. I would apologize profusely and announce my utter clumsiness to the entire party, begging for pardon from my dear hostess.  I could see myself now- mopping up the spill with my napkin, secretly knowing that it would be there forever as an infinite reminder of my poor table manners. Well, she shouldn’t have invited me. She knows better-She is a lady of grace and elegance and has no reason to invite me to such a party of suchclass. We discussed ethical treatment of minorities to a great extent, focusing on the various subjects of moral decay that is sprouting up in this country like spring flowers. Lovely little flowers, they were, indeed. I dreamt of picking them up, each one, and pulling off each petal and eventually crushing the stems into the warm dirt below. Mmm, I should thank Miss Lovely for such a Lovely time tonight. I do believe that I have had a delightful time this evening; I started dinner off with some fine hor-d’oeuvres, ripping the curtains down and slamming them on the table, a light salade, crashing my plate against the ground and throwing my silverware about, some delightful coq a vin, followed by the screaming of profanities, and finishing with Fonseca and my glass, half drunken, on the floor. A delightful party, my dear, my dear. So pleased to have you. I could spend every moment here, laying on the floor at this lovely dinner party, naked and rolling in my own feces, scowling at the act of men rubbing thighs and adjusting their glasses.  I would love to just rip everything away and scream and hurry and spill all of this onto itself and leave miss lovely’s lovely white carpet all stained with everyone’s SHIT!     I SAID IT- I said it because somebody had to say it! I am sure that I won’t be the only one killing myself at the end of the night- after the goodbyes and kisses on the cheeks. No no no, I am certainly not the only one! In fact, I should think that we will all step into the bathtub at the same time, skillful skillful skillful to cut the strings at the exact right moment.  We really all are lovely little flowers aren’t we?

Two Children fell in love
After they colored the squares
And shaped the circles
And fit their hands around the lunchbox
Firm and slipped out the plastic
Ziplock bags
And fought over what was inside

Two Children fell in love
After they colored the squares
And shaped the circles
And fit their hands around the lunchbox
Firm and slipped out the plastic
Ziplock bags
An fought over what was inside

It keeps spinning
and spinning
and spinning.
We know where the arrow is going to land.
Why bother to play?

He has etch-a-sketch lines around his eyes
Sitting, leaning, portraying some sort of brash confidence. That he would perhaps get lucky on this
Tuesday
Where the wind blew silently and dew drops slid down the car windows like
silk gliding in the air or petals
splashing, expanding as they thud to the
ground was worn down, perhaps it was the time, or perhaps it was the lack thereof.
She is twirling her hair. I want to
scream WOMAN grow some balls! Sit up straight you
are letting him

Win with your Gucci-knockoff handbag and
blonde blonde hair you are
just like all of the other bimbos looking for their
first and last love. Could you please explain
Why you chose to wear THAT on your
first date?

What a Typical
Tu
      es
           da
                 y

Rage coiled at the back of my throat
Serpentine with spit of fire
Welling up and sending
Acid down my cheeks and through my
Lips

Clenching teeth
Shivering and shaking
Eyes glowing full of molten dreams
Breath red with green

When I did it I focused
On the color of it all
The silvers
The reds
The way it all reflected and melted in the oozy warm water
Spinning and gliding
Drifting farther and farther
The molecules ripping apart at the zippers
Illustrating with precision and beauty what humans do
Through war and hatred

The eclipsed moon whispered promises through the tape

I leaned in towards her, mimicking the curve in her back and the squint in her eyes. I rested my chin in my hands, completing the final touches to creating a mirror between us. A mirror. I smiled to question which one of us was the reflection and which was the reflector. Or, perhaps, we are inertly tied together at the wrist. The definition of reflecting written in my scars, hidden beneath my cardigan.  I smiled, and she smiled back, no longer questioning me, no longer doubting any part of my sincerity. I leaned back, and she followed me, relaxing into her new role.
I knew that I had her now, that I had all the power. With this, I formed promising words on my lips. Caressed careful tears down my cheeks while her head nodded and her hand jotted. I weaved the world I lived in, colored it red and black, or blue and pink. I brought her to the edge of the cliff side, and nudged her in, to be sucked under the carpet of waves and disappear in the waters and the wild. But, I brought her back up, nestled her in my arms and drifted back to Earth and to the warmth of the desert. I braided her hair and fixed her mind to the glorious battlefields of my youth, the stunning victories and the bloody defeats. I was the hero. A shining beacon of light in the dismal landscape.
I could tell be the way her lip quivered at the end of my story that I had won. Like wrinkled silk clinging to a bedpost, she hung onto every word I said and gazed in awe at the girl who overcame all odds. Victory was mine indeed.

But I take no prisoners.

Carrying her scalp, I left her screaming body in the office, next to the box of tissues and the thrift-store couch, which was still warm from where I had sat.

And I went on to the next therapist, a new story already brewing in my mind.

Love
Love
Deeper Love
Tweenaged stars
More Love
linelinelinelinelinelineline
Do you worry?
Drama Queen
linelinelinelinelinelineline
Bull. Shit.
Touch me
SawingSawing
linelinelinelinelinelinelinelinelinelinelinelinelinelinelinel­ine
Pretty little circles
Diamonds in my ears
Or safety pins
linelineline
On my thighs now
Side to Side
Carve my abs
Rock hard
linelinelinelinelinelinelineline
Best Friends For Ever
Shh. You're ALIVE
O Captain my Captain
linelinelinelinelinelineburrrrnnnnnnnn
I ran through the trees
Or a dog scratched me
Or a cat
Waiting for the moon to curl over the sky

Tonight, lanterns will swing freely like me, brassiere-less and glowing
Steam growing misty around my eyes,
My hair all pulled up, my bangs sticking to my forehead.

Lanterns will swing freely and the light will escape from them and create
Patterns on the glossy sidewalk
Plaster-white sidewalk with only a few pieces of black gum.

Lanterns will swing and patterns will dance and mirrors will tarnish
With time, green or brown, with cracks.
Until, perhaps, one day I shall not be able to see myself in them
My reflection might be murky and indistinguishable from that of a tree
Or a root
Or a dog
Or any other lonely person.

Tonight, the mirrors will crack and the glass will collect dust and piggy-banks will be left unshaken 
Their promises unfulfilled,
Leaving empty tummies and sunken-welled eyes.

Tonight, the lanterns may swing free but the lightbulbs inside will be trapped, 
Emaciated and skillfully looking for ways to break the glass.
Tonight, men will cry and mothers will mourn for themselves
And decisions will be decided
And switches will be flicked
And dancing will illuminate the gum

I am the bohemians
I am fern-covered lovers hushing their moans
I am the lull in the night, whispering, promising
I am the promise of new life
I am reflecting off the silver, wrapping myself around his fingers
I am her glazed-over eyes
I am the hazy fog sitting triumphantly on the reeds
I am painting lunar self-portraits in their hair
I am the misfits
I am the journey
I am going to save you
I am going to kill you
I am We
We are the bohemians

When I am tired
Tired of everything
I sit
And let my mind             d                            r                                 i                             f                                   t
And think about the ways that
Maybe
I could run away
Run away from everything

I could go with Him
Get lost in the world
We could blindly lead each other to heaven
Or I could go by myself
Keep my eyes low
And                          s                          i                               n

I could have gotten out of bed today
I swear, I was planning on it
No really, I wanted to and everything

Too bad the walls caved in and the floor gave out and
I am nailed to my bed now

Who is running through your mind right now/ While we look at each other on the reflection-concrete/ The sky, blinking for us/ Illustrating our broken thoughts
Who is lingering in your eyes/ when you stare in your face/on the ground/looking for a fragment of information leading to yourself/ a way to tell me/ a way to save me
//
//
//
//
My toes are wrinkled/ My socks ooze you/ Layer by layer, I strip my skin off/ And examine my naked body in the foggy windowpane
I have an un-popped-pimple/ And you are there again/ Locked into the creases of my eyes/ Sewn by an auroral dream
The light sends silver up my leg/ And near my belly-button/ Circling my chest/ Lighting up the hairs that stand up in attention/ Did you succeed?
I am so far from you now/ A whole year far/ So much has changed/but/ The weather is foggy and gray/ the ground still reflects the same boy I knew so long ago.

I bit my nails down to a nub
Am I a ghost? A long forgotten
Memory, eased into your backburner, well
Oiled with the sweat of my lust?

When may I emerge from the
Shadows and proclaim that my
Love may be silent, but
It screams so loud in my ears.

Hey, I am hurting here!
Can you put down your life for one
Moment and just sit and justfucking
Listento me?

Or perhaps the image of myself I held so dear is
Now a killer, destined for
Damnation along with all the other
Souls that murdered everything they touched.

I swear, I didn’t mean to.
But it all just crumpled in my
Hand like ashes and I tried to be delicate, but
I pressed too hard.

I wanted to know if it was alive.
I wanted to be sure that this
Love was real, and not just some
Plastic penny-box letter.

I cannot escape for you.
These bars bind me down and
These walls close me in No
Matter how much I runorrun
Or run into them they won’t
Budge.
Please, just this once?
Maybe, this time if I am strong enough they will
Move
And I will taste freedom

Please kill them
Every single one'a'em bastards
I'm gunna shootemdead.
Gunna gunnemdown
We is gunna get ourselfs happy, fer once.
Issa great game, this "life" thing.

You left your coffee-stain on
My neck.