Unhealthy things crave a cure
no, I doubt you need to involve needles
or extreme measures, like shocks and straps
probably just a fan in a cool room to
calm the sweat
I'm sweating up a storm
downright unbearable, this heat
heavy on my neck. I know there's a breeze, I can
see it in the curtains. All these shakes and
itches. I need a Trip away
Doctors always exaggerate, right?
Assuming what they said about you, being
addicted and all. I see them as having lied
before. They've scratched at bug bites, can't they
notice his arms took the price of red relief, that's all
I hate skin and I hate the color white
I hate the way people's nose curve at
the tip, like a snag a crook a flashlight
I hate the small amount of hiding places
and I hate that I can't crawl into the disposal
I think it's because he fell off a ladder
at the age of six-cried a puddle and no
one said he'd be okay. That little boy just
cried and cried and realized he could only fix it
by wiping the snot off and shutting up like daddy said
There was a light I loved and loved said
I would take care of it never forget how I felt
never never walk away beauty always toward but
the light was high I was low I kept digging a hole
further I went and further I went
No I'm not a relative, but I knew him
once. Decided to stop by, it's been years. When
I saw him face down I thought I'd bring him here,
never imagined he would get this bad. He used to
call me his light. I had to leave, don't you see why?
The wind will take me and
away I'll float
to the sea to the moon
where no one is there
no one is there
What is it that makesmefeel alive
Could it be the way you touch my face
in sweet hesitation
I actually don't know most of the time
The ground invites me everywhere, makesmefeel endless. But only if my heels sink into the soggy paths
Unlimited in any direction
→ ↑ ↓ ← the only requirement is to ask [where]....
Icanfeel myself merging
into the planes above, drawn to the only man in the sky strong enough for the extra weight
I haven't prepared at all, for what might happen
if it rained
and my grip slipped (along with GODs tears)
returning to the place I thought I flew away from
right on ↑ with the smoke from your ears, the last exhale of Tink's fairy dust
no one imagined lighting it on fire and sending only their minds, NeverNever to Land again
Hair mademefeel like a doll
MADE OF ROCKS AND BLOCKS AND HARD PLACES
.........remember? dolls are breakable and I don't like glass so I found tough stuff
// But hair //
I could swing it all day and create sound waves → Always wondered if anyone heard the same tune. I cut it, the pitch was too flat and now its High and Mighty
I promised the part that [makesmefeel]
that s l o w is the way to go
so I drove on the right side
looked both ways and would you believe it!
but just my car
and the ♥'s of my life said things can be replaced and $$$ isn't everything
so I smiled and sprinkled more dust and let the hurt of guilt strip down to its naked truth
I'll keep trying to make sure my heart
doesn't stop and we can all
for see, while sometimes
what [makesmefeel] can get confused,
---loaded with images and dinners for two and promises
my friends make to each other and a glamorous glowing
most of all its nervous about the long run
I've never ventured without shoes
and it's all so rocky-not like the yachts on a bad day
but the way rapids plan their jogging trials
and all the sights all the sounds
all the finger pricks and cotton
the cheats and final laps
ribbons and red pens
all the gentle brushstrokes and chafing
that's what makesmefeel alive
“I went down to the river,
I set down on the bank.
I tried to think but couldn't,
So I jumped in and sank.”
― Langston Hughes
We've all seen you lament, at some point.
The last was with your revised Florida Orange Juice, tiring
your right hand, knocking the empty bottle against each joint.
Muddled in slow jams the knees in your strict jeans leaned into the motion,
helplessly receding feebly proceeding possibly misleading-
drip drip dripping through the deck you drowned, and I was left to sway in your arid ocean.
There are pieces of camera equipment buried into overflowing sock drawers,
to remind the lovers that your still here, and the others that you don't care
They were sold to the men on Main- doesn't matter if they are yours
I promised to keep your head above water-corrected each struggle, each flail
soaked whispered confessions, panicked treading legs, desperate flooded eyes
I watched you wade into the water, and I knew I would fail
I stirred from a dream-dazed, I saw flashbacks of a knotted
silver gleam. From it a figure bent forward. Here, at last alone in the dark the knight
or stable boy
took his lover's hand and instead of pressing each fingerprint between his palms
and reciting how he couldn't breathe in her absence
he snatched a dictionary from the nearby shelf and began delivering
words beginning incidentally with the letter H. Over and over again
until he almost fled from the room in Hopelessness.
she was the Hazel in his brewing coffee; the Halo of his prayers
Hideous leaked from the page and he Hiccuped. Reminded suddenly of her behavior
silent, sleepless nights came forth and smothered his speech. Anger rose and each
private grief was spit into the crease of her hairline.
it oozed into the tears between her eyes, splashed onto her sweaty, reaching arms.
drenched, choking in fever, she waited until it settled between the ridge of both ears.
they said nothing
he couldn't look at her-
she couldn't stop staring
after a couple minutes he walked away and
she fell like raindrops into the pinched, center drain
I can have whatever I want
I hold my father's wallet and my mother's softness
Frequently the pantry overflows, clothes don't fit the closet
I am immune from suffering and misery. Never will I fear life
I steal my father's wallet and my mother's softness
Manipulative, selfish- I create problems because I have none
I fear life- Never will I be immune from misery and suffering
I reach at others scars and pretend I am one of them
I create problems because I am manipulative and selfish
people linger as experiments, museum exhibits, re-writable pages
I reach with others, pretending their scars are mine
limping in persistent perfection, curiously wiping sweat from addicts
Lingering are people's experiments, museum exhibits, re-written pages
What is it that leaves me unsatisfied?
A limping, sweaty addict to perfection, curiously persistent
Eventually, will I be grateful? Will I be proud?
What is it that leaves them unsatisfied?
I've noticed some would rather stray than try
Eventually I will be grateful and proud.
I feel compelled-maybe to an idea not yet discovered
I've noticed some would rather try than stray
Innocently I'll lock my door and each night I'll be safe
I feel compelled to discover an idea...maybe I have
sometimes I'll examine hands or gaze at trampled leaves
I'll be safe each night, innocent behind my locked door
Lost in thought, writing apologetic love letters with a snack
I'll sometimes hold trampled leaves- examining. gazing.
I can have whatever I want
I was about to cut away the bruises
until I saw their charm
Reaping the trees
I snagged the deepening black scrapes
it said to me in its way
that I was all remaining hope
I'll hold you in my basket
in the kitchen you'll humiliate the others
with your colors
soft to the touch, you squish inward
hardly able to stand up for yourself
splotchy red with shame
warped straight face staring
can you breathe
through those holes?
I was about to cut away the bruises
until I saw their charm
a struggling artist in the fields
you were different with rot
distorted, grieving skin
keeping only the brown of the stem
the way it's usually seen
I only took a bite
to relish the unfamiliar
I'll realize later
I want better
There are orca whales in my ears
but only when it rains
ill swallow the gnats to feed
the bellies and the growing fears
I never know how to greet it
I took the nail filer and carved
two perfect holes directly above my big toes
you can never be too careful
I wanted to make sure my feet knew that sometimes
I promised my umbrella that if
it could wait another couple weeks
I wouldn't rip it to shreds myself
why is there patience for quitters and
people who hate thunderstorms?
There are orca whales in my ears
but only when it rains
Gave into the cooped clouds,
let them smear cleaner through my roots
swaying instead to dodge the drip
and heaving sighs
A gritty man said the world is a place to bury
into. take both feet, heels deep in the city.
coughing through thick smoke, he said
you will know that people are as stuck as gum under the rails
I responded: maybe they are taking their time
when I sleep my eyes don't close
I beat dust with my breathing and let my eyelids flutter at the fan
dreams of sailing entice water from my eyes
I reach over and let droplets cascade into your hair
it always smells like coconut and driftwood
Each morning you wake the sheets are chilled and my is suit warm
I breath perfume from your blouse while I type, see your strawberry hair fall
to your eyes. I relish in solving paper stacks and late night empty floors, yet
I crave the sound of our garage door as it closes behind me
I let my hands fall, careful to miss my pockets
sliding them loosely at my side.
I go out into the clean cut gray window gallery, rows of traffic
The man's smoggy afterthoughts say the subway is as beautiful as
his exhales, sleep is only a man who can breathe both above and below a great sea
and suits secretly climb up slides and swing across monkey bars-
each craving their own private happiness.
all I really want, at the close of each day
is to make you peanut butter truffle cheesecake and lemon drop tea
paint the bathroom cherry red
rub your feet during movie nights
and hold your hand while we sleep
I used to carry two buckets
It was easy, each swing weightless
I filled them with thoughts of the day and put them on the shelf at night
People began to fill them with their favorite things
At first I liked the kick knacks
Bibles, shards of scrapping paper, handicap stickers, elephants and stars, kids menus, empty party bottles, movie reels and a wadded up half finished confession on the back of a napkin.
The weight began to grow
I enjoyed it, the build of muscle, the struggle of hard work. I could feel the sweat on the sides of my forehead and I was proud. These buckets were a sign of success
they were my trophies
and I polished them every night
the sweat began to pour
into my buckets
I hated the sloppy stains left behind, legs bored with the gain
no longer willing to put in the time
my buckets. my little spits of treasure
I wanted to tip them over the bridge like a butcher chucks his slimed waste into the dump
I let things go
Into the river. let the buckets settle into the slush at the bottom of a cool drink.
If I want to hold something, I'll use my hands
and if over my palm all things drop- I'll know I'm only human
Her fingers were covered in corn.
the corn after chewing, broken
pierced, churned- it could spread as butter
thick on stale toast, if needed
"it's fine, don't you worry, we'll get you all cleaned up"
she stared indifferently
Strings dangled from her mouth, unswept
full of necessary greens ---"mhm there there, this will give
you so much energy" --- drags of breath,
half inhale half choke. nothing to look forward to,
not the next soaking glob, not the cursing woman
in the bathroom, not the spill of light to her eyes
Where are the ladles, Did you check on it? The key? Just moved, most the suitcases aren't there yet. Remember to bring the Did you check on it? pay attention. Have you seen my grand kids?
who are you?
Sunday's are for the active ones
The games down the hall are too far. Why worry with legs, if she could just adjust to the left
the world could sag into an ongoing dream- No demands, no games, no movement.
The nurses hair net had more presence than the splotch of gray against her peeling itchy scalp. Drool leaked from leather lips, dampening the collar of her two month sticky blouse. Arms curled and locked,displaying under the wax skin cranberry patches-
she never wiped them off. Always the soft murmer of
a snore, always the smell of unbrushed teeth and hampers.
"Did you touch those where don't touch me scott scott scott leave my things alone thevenin I need a stop lying I want to go scott, scott? scott. I can't remember any"
I said my name four times before she heard me, knew me
I fixed her pillow and my sister marked off the day on the calendar.
We told her about school, the marching band, each word
filled with forced enthusiasm. She bobbed her head in circles, lazily
rolling her eyes, the curtain shading the empty space. We spent 30 minutes precisely.
She was more than I realized.
I never knew she had horseback riding, violin playing days. She traveled and hiked. We could have been close. Unraveling with the mystery, I felt the lateness of my curiosity.
It was 30 minutes precisely, always.
We acted as strangers, reciting routine and wishing each other a happy day and a quiet love you
Humming, the warmed rum of daybreak soothed the hiccups of a spoiled slumber. Yawning, sunlight sweet talk eased our puffy eyed sleep shirts back to the cushions from which they came.
Soon, impatient fingers would press firmly at 11:00, daring contentment to linger in the shadow of honey gold.
Buried in the frosting of blue and gray sheet cake, the blankets coated their chins. somewhere in their hair lay remnants of peanut butter cheesecake and blush; expected phone calls every evening at 6 and clumsy words that littered three cherry pits in the corners of my eyes.
[ I ] [Love] [You]
Blossoms, sweet fragrance ----
¬ promises, they drift from the branch
I replay your repeat smoke rings, listening to your lukewarm, out-pour of voice. Gritty against my ears - I turn to the wall.
Your thoughts are crowded, littered paper wads and aged banana peels, tossed with Saturday's hopes and wishes. With my need to be seen, I will grow an inch each week, so that by September, eyes upon eyes brows upon brows, no longer will height save you.
Waiting for you to notice,
waiting for you to wake.
What do you see now
that you can
look me in the eyes?
Tart as the lemon drop next to the honey bun stain across the room there are 2 letters. Ordinary as ink upon paper, they mean nothing at first glance.
They will fall
through the cracks in the floor. Drifting to the place all lost things go to be forgotten.
Only by 11:30 will you notice it is morning and half the bed is made
covered in flies only the letters KYLIN ILLE were seen. ripped corners of grease, caved in drooping. the way the ants ran, weak to the prophesied speaker. gathered around the mushed manifesto, soaking extensively in the intrigue of carelessness. Ravishing.
Only by the absence of thought could I stumble onto the moments before the drop off. a blurred glance at the road, a swipe of unclean against deep blue. easy strides and a weighted spine. in the vacancy of worries a quick glare to the sun, a double checking of unexpected, brisk anger.
Your slip n slide fingers, loud mouth cowards. faltering in the responsibility of a finished task.
Down dipped merry words of toxic proclamation, viewed by your carefree t-shirt, openly believing it has all the time in the world before it splats against the static concrete
each word fought
each distortion ripped
each muffled night
barred eyes, fully
outweigh my strike on
I began to notice the
Blotched ink, frayed seams
yet those who can't see
It was most familiar to a weary box
Which spent weekdays and nights
To warm faces and comfort Sundays
I struggled when the
torch of permanent portions was passed to
me. Each word felt unworthy and full of
I always strived for
I used to clutch the cloth
carefully folding and unfolding
fearing the sendoff, knowing the return
would become rare
If at all.
it was a pricked finger and
It was right to hideaway
At the time
I crumbled under the stage lights
The audience was expecting
All I could provide was
And like a spoiled child
I still pout
Demanding fame under my demanded
What is, is
But. I do remember. Even if you figure the pants don't fit
I seized your sleeve, rhythm, pulse..soon to be easier, learning about when to hold on and when to let
go to the end of the road, I'll know where to look. I won't waste time, always trying, always trying. I
promise raw ignited thoughts repeated...rolling into fabric and turning up against the heat of another
being so young and so old allows me to make all sorts of right choices that happen all at the wrong
times like these make forgetting you and all you hide as easy as forcing truth from the lips of my liar
heart problems may arise if one eats as they do instead of as they can. I know you will tell me much
more claims, undeniable fragments. I'd rather see the complete landscape instead of your puzzle
pieces of your life always leave me with chills, and there are times where all I want is to fill in the
space always seems to exist within and between us. yet "us" still survives and we still admire how it
sounds like we have a long way to go before we have the ability to steal any part that shows
endurance is more than sweat and battered muscles. will you ever know how hard I try to be the
but what does that mean anyway
My breath fogged your glasses
hard to tell hard to see hard to care
so I whipped up a couple of blinks and pumped more blood
garden fresh cheeks
lace and sweet cherry knots
memorizing scripts in margarita swirls
same sentences--erased lines
spied the EXIT fall
crashed with a simple laugh
I laughed too
rows of lipstick stains and plastic strips
tripping over the way out
muttering punk sputtering prank
then they wobbled out the
and I ordered more foggy
It must be the silence.
riddles on the other line-
rise of breath, slow muted sighs
raw red ripples
what are your rhythms
I whispered for bravery into swollen knots of a weeping willow
sweeping scarred strength rough on my pulse
revealing to the roots my daily face to face with
and the belief that I can wait
as a coo soothes a napping field
rocking, deep in care free slumber-
I feel you too
will someday brush across my cheek, careful
sending troubles with a hush
quiet as the day shy's it's gaze to the night
There will always be a pause
escalating expectations, suspended seconds
when the door heaves closed
and I'm tugged into innocence
clutching the air for a blankie, holding close
the possibility everything will be alright
I keep a wilting daisy on the floor beside my bed
dampened by the shadows, colored by my eyes
it will dry completely, defeated on the carpet
yet there will be more
and I will always fill the vase with water
I won't watch the flames the same way
Staggers toward a long-term
It was the mouths fault
smacking together, flicking sticky
reality onto her collarbone.
Squishing perfectly whole beginnings into soggy afterthoughts
It could have left them alone, yet
silence is failure, and success was all it could talk about
Never reach for a door closing if you
can't handle the pain.
Pinched knuckles inflamed with blame,
stiffly folding in quiet fury
Nails are diva's
rallying strikes when ignored, scratching at patience
always needing attention
All active in the community: grabbing and giving, holding and pushing,
killing and mending, building and breaking.
Thing is, fingerprints only matter in crimes
It's losing pressure. Deflating, collapsing.
Rubbing is hopeless, exams are lazy, blinking is irritating. No focus
Look at her-
Look her in the eyes-
No focus, no focus, ......no .....fo....
midnight bench talk
Reading makes it worse, table charts said it would continue deteriorating. Always blurred, always squinting.
So much depending, so much waiting. so much, so much, ......so....muc
hours of music
Don't quit, don't go easy.
Committed- following through, following these vines. These promises
Don't underestimate- prove it.
Every day, every day, every.single.day.
I won't let you down
Don't take me for granted
I am strong, I am strong, I am strong
I have moments
Mouth's lie, hand's reach, eye's fade, heart's ache.
Be more than the weakness
I am only human
I want more