I’ve heard of 27 words for tears
And 50 more for sand
At least a thousand or so for rain and snow
I probably know more than that
I wish I had a million words
For love
But all I can think of is the way your eyes look into mine
Your fingers against my skin
And the sound of your breathing when you’re asleep beside me
And there are no words for that

You had beautiful eyes
not that I noticed at first
first thing I saw was your feet

worn out black running shoes shuffling down the isle
fleece pajama pants with Calgary Flames logos all over
though it was pushing 30 degrees outside
and felt as if you could squeeze warm drops of water from the air

looking up as you stopped
blue and orange plaid criss crossed a winter jacket
despite the weather

your skin was tanned, not orange
you smelled of shampoo and vanilla lotion

watching as you pulled out cherry lip gloss
ran slender fingers over your shaved head

that was when you looked up... as if you knew

I'd been staring

I thought of a thousand reactions
you gave the only one I hadn't expected

then I noticed your eyes
just as the light came thought the window

they were brown, or maybe more like honey
fragmented emeralds drifting though them

you smiled and said nothing

not that you needed too
it was one of those moment that was better without words
would have been tarnished by them

where everything stopped completely and all I could think was

...wow...

nothing else happened to disturb that second
it just stretched on
no one else moved
or made a sound

I knew then that you were one of those people
you lit rooms with a glance
the one that others were drawn to
fell in love with

even if you didn't love them back
and wrote beautiful things about

I couldnt help but smile back
you were contagious
beautiful

the train stopped
you left

I stayed
and watched

watched you watching me through the window
smiling as though you had heard my thoughts

you knew I had really seen you
I understood

I would never see you again
our meeting was chance
but all the same

for just a second
I was in love
with a beautiful stranger

Flecks of color amid the gray wash
Rivers once formidable now only bothersome
Steel and concrete

Voices shouting
WAKE UP! an advertising sign screams silently
Still unheard a man jangles for change on a street corner
While church doors hang wide begging charity

Hockey games and unspoken rivalries
Except on national T.V

Bike shops, bus stops
Messengers and a mail box

Highways to by ways
But no one knows the right way

Got Junk?
Emotional maybe

Bentley's, all the baggage you'll never need
Oh please, words flow in chorus
Dramatic gestures following fluid as trained actors

Therapy is the way for me
Why not with M.D degrees being handed out like fortune cookies

No real complaints until you find yourself on Dr. Fill in the blank
Listening with glazed eyes as they doles out advice like Opera

Glass half full until its pushed off the metaphorical table
But how does that make you feel?

It's all become to much now
As directed on the back packaging

Please recycle your brain matter
They may need the ad space

it was just that
one second
a single moment in time
but it stood still
perfectly endless
and the way the world looked
at least to me
changed
every out of place hair
was for just one moment
perfect and beautiful
like ripples in a river
totally unnoticeable
except
right then
I wanted to catch it
and live in that second for a week
but it was gone
while I stood still
frozen
by the beauty
of a single second

There’s a moment to every story

When the prince doesn’t come to save the damsel
The dragon can’t be defeated

And the threads of lies the witch wove
Grow stronger instead of breaking

When chivalry has long since past
And the mourners leave only dying flowers
At a grave that was never there at all

Because no one cared enough
To stop and drag its lowly carcass from the road side
Before the ravens came a pecking

Pecking, pecking
All the while calling in their harsh laughing voices
Never more

Like feathered boogey men to steal away what was never ours
Except in dreams and fairytales

While sprawling trails of ink on paper attempt to record
Every step in a hero’s journey
Without ever stopping him in warning

Of the ravens all the while waiting
With cries of never more

This is a picture
That was never taken
Of the clouds that shuffled slowly over head
The soft breeze that whispered and hissed against the sand
My shoes in one hand
Your hand in the other
How our eyes met at the exact second
The sky split
And the rain engulfed everything
In that roaring stillness
And we stood together on the beach
As everyone eles ran for cover
Picture perfect

There are no strings on these balloons
so instead lets just drift together
even if it's only for a moment
I'll be here with you
until you just
fly away

Down in the dark
when the day feels to hard
the nights just to long
and there aren't enough stars

sleep just a few hours
drink to much caffeine
slip through the days
like water through sand

think of a letter I never did send
the words I missed saying
when I had the chance

keep walking along
my head in the clouds
much better up here
then down on the ground

down there lies my body
my battered heart too
but up here are my dreams
of a lifetime with you

the roads gave me blisters
the skies gave me tears
your hand gives me hope
that I'd lost over years

not so shiny and new
more battered and bruised
but my hearts not yet broken
it might still have some use

please handle with care
and treat it with love
promise you'll keep it
it's the only one that I have

The train stops in front of me
first of the morning
get on the last car and walk quietly to the end of the row
a lone passenger sits in the aisle across from me
they wear only a thin coat even though the morning is cold and damp

It takes a moment to notice that the only foot prints down the aisle are mine
made of slow melting snow, it clings to my shoes
I wonder about that for a second...
but it’s early and the thought is brushed away leaving only the silence

No one else gets on the train with us
just the lone passenger and I
sitting silently
an impossible silence

The train runs along the track and I chance to look over at the lone passenger
they are looking back at me
unblinking, their face is weather worn and tired from life, long and hard

I want to look away, turn back and watch the darkness passing outside the window but they smile before I can
been worse, they say it softly as we look at each other
they nod slowly both to themselves and me
yes been worse they repeat
we sit again in that impossible silence

I open my mouth to question the statement
question the words of this lone passenger who passes through the world without leaving any foot prints in slow melting snow
but my words die before they have passed my lips

The automated announcer calls out my stop and the train slows
I get off and turn to look back at the lone passenger with the weather worn face
but the row is empty

There are no foot prints following mine out of the train door

No other foot prints in the slow melting snow

Again they have passed without leaving any

I stand on the platform watching the train pull away
as I stand there alone the words echo in my mind

Been worse... yes it has been, so much worse
but not anymore

I still leave foot prints in slow melting snow
not too worn to smile

Been worse...
but not anymore
not anymore

Saw it
Just for a moment, but it was there
Black and gleaming silver metal
Stalking after his shadow
Glaring at everyone

As though they had personally kicked his dog
More metal in his face than a bomb defusing robot
Mask of plastic and metallic fragments creeping up
Nearly reaching the bridge of his nose
Post apocalyptic video games had nothing on him

An urban cliche
Standing as we carried on
Unnoticed
Glaring just as hatefully at his own reflection
Ear buds blasting lyrical angst of an X generation
Without ever changing

Saw it
But just for a moment
Still unnoticed
He departed

A haze of misplaced anger
Black metal tunes, clicking metal
And the strangest face mask
I have ever seen

Sometimes...

I don't like you very much

That is all

I watched you silently from my place amid the masses
As you sat alone on stage

Around you stood the empty chairs
Still awaiting instruments and bodies
But you didn’t seem to notice

Slowly drawing the bow across the strings
While fingers danced seemingly unaided

I sketched you then in my mind so that I might always remember the way your brow was furrowed
Hair astray in the fashion most expected by a being that has not slept in as many days as artists of unheard merit are apt to do

I traced the joints of your fingers curled around the dark wooden handle almost, but never touching the off white fabric that stretched between one point and the other

In my mind I found I could only liken you and your appearance to that of others I had only read of
All fictional of course

Here a wayward detective long since run down but never out sank his sorrows in a bottle while his mind fractured but still brilliant carried on

But then there were so many others that also came to mind, each tugging at the corners of my imagination with passionate desperation
Attempting in the only way they knew to be the sole capture of my attention

In this corner I found a journalist well traveled as he was versed, with the quality beseeching that of a gentleman hidden under two days worth of growth

But perhaps your likeness might be more suited to the air of a more scientific mind, secret genius cultivating cures for every kind of illness while still trapped in the depths of madness

I sat and watched as you played unnoticed for what seemed to me just a moment but was far more then that as my mind turned over the possibility of all the people you could have been

But when asked softly why didn’t I rise from my unnoticed place and put to rest my chaotic thoughts by moving close to speak to you if only for a moment

I resisted

What could I say to let them understand the path my mind had run
How I was unwilling to leave my seat, held there by this slight fear

That if I dared to find my voice, to rise and cross the space between the seats… to draw close enough that you might see me
All that I had imagined you to be would be crushed or somehow dulled by the harsh light of reality

You might not be a gentleman, suave and smooth with charm or reflect even a bit the madness of a scientist whose sanity has long since gone…
You might be so far from the truth that I’d never write this poem

So I sat silently in my place amid the masses

Watching you draw your bow across the strings while your fingers danced unaided

Whatever happened to those days
when 2 good friends was enough
4 was pushing your ability to see them all in a week
and more then you could count on one hand meant you were that kid with more money then social skills

What happened to picking up the phone
going 24 hours without texting someone
or god forbid
leaving the house without your cellphone, tablet, E-reader... ext... ext

Where did the enthusiastic answer Hell ya! go?
when was is swallowed up by the strange awkward silence usually following the question

Are you busy?

When was it converted into a hesitant and half hearted lie

I'll message you on Facebook...

When did the world start revolving around spray on tans
because no one goes outside anymore

When was LIFE exchanged for online credit
birthday reminders for people you've never met
high scores that wont matter tomorrow, or even 10 seconds from now

Farmville, Mafia wars, Bejeweled

and loneliness...

there was never any magic to finding my way to this place just another sleepless night
restless longing to feel, pretend that I could belong

somewhere, at least for a time

to cast my words like fishing lines in hopes of catching some fragment of acceptance
in a craft where I still fumbled
stumbled, blind as any bat

fingers grouping harsh and frantic after words that plagued my mind jerking sleep back like a rug that used to lay so still and lifeless

leaving me flat on my back head spinning with so many verses
titles for these names and faces
places, places I have yet to see but still go seeking endlessly

scratching words through coffee shops, plane flights.. bus stops
somber tones of concert halls rising higher

pitch matched only by these shaking hands still gripping pen and paper
feverish with intent and desire to find their place where two worlds could meet

if only as a passing glance between two threads of a second where I could simply fall in place and know as artists do
that I am not alone

Bleep! Bleep!
Hello?

Wrinkles slacks sagging
Cheap suit two sizes to small
Pulling tight across shoulders and distended stomach

A pass over from the last funeral
Or maybe just stolen from one

Scuffed shoes and an army hair cut
Dollar store frames carving a trench in the soft bridge of his nose
Fat fingers clutching desperately at the latest piece of over priced technology

More important than a tie without orange juice stains
Obviously...

Kids jumping on dumpsters
Joyful shouts at the destruction
Youth, I remember it well
Stupidity too

I’m a few years ahead
But just a few
Was I once like that too?
I can’t remember

No I think my love was for swing sets
How they could lift you above everything
Even if they brought you down again

It left that twisted feeling in your stomach
Half the time not sure if it was good or not

But always we would run whooping for them
As soon as we got to the park
No... I’m definitely nothing like them

I wonder if they will learn...
Dumpsters of today
Friends of tomorrow
Children of an uncertain future

I hope they learn
I could tell them
But... they won’t listen
Having too much fun with their destruction

Those few years really mean something
No I was never like them
I was in love with swing sets

Pluck one fat orange body from the water
Slippery fins pinched between finger and thumb
Wiggling, wriggling struggling for life
Pointless life with a five second memory
Fat drops of water leave trails across the counter top
Plop, let it fall onto the plate

Gills flexing
Mouth agape
Open, close
Blank eyes stare upwards
Watching reflected light from the water ripple on the ceiling

The first thing to be spooned out
Spread over fresh toast
Like butter before jam

Goldfish on top of eye jelly
Fat orange body still wiggling
Wriggling, struggling for that pointless life
A five second memory

Gills still flexing
Mouth moving slowly
Open, close
Empty eye sockets now watching nothing
Still staring in mute horror

How strange
I hear no one questions
No gasping people with pointing fingers
Screams of horror as they flee

Nothing...
No one cares
About goldfish on toast

Shrieking bounces off hard walls
scattering
needle fine
it settles on the backs of dull eyed drones

they march
follow orders
lift that
move this
break
now again

nothing is spoken
communication (if it can be called that) is ear piercing
a shrill high pitched demand of sound

my skin prickles

tense

drones march
this must go
that must stay

harpy perches
eyes of a scavenger seeking weakness
twisted beak juts forward
head turns slowly
pause, turn, pause, turn

relax again
keep moving
watch it settle
never satisfied
never happy
ugly restless feathered thing

looming, waiting...

Suddenly
Movement
Action

another victim
to late for them though

keep moving
don't linger
even as its shrieking mantra beats against my skull like hail

work, work, work
harder
faster
harder

if not so loathsome it might be jokingly ******

finally it stops

another drone rises
eyes dull, lost
compliant...

is this hell?
I need to get out of here...

Dandelions thrash to the opening chorus of rattle clank by the chain links
yellow heads bobbing
tussled mops of white ****** back defiantly into the wind
until they lean against one another
exhausted and bald

Foxtails sway
feathered limbs thrumming
raised in the air like they just don't care
drumming to the beat of highway traffic
never alone
but gathered together in tight clusters
wary of outside influence

Thistles nod to smoother tunes
the conservative hemming in the edges
seeming almost out of place
until they throw down with their true colors
sporting mohawks in ever shade of purple

The show ends with deep shades of night
falling like a curtain to quiet the floral concert

Until dawn when the show goes on

I lived in a glass house once... it was perfect
perfect walls... perfect floors... perfect ceiling...
...always perfect... but never happy

that's what happens though isn't it?
when you live in the idea that your life should be scrutinized by strangers
when your life, becomes their life

Don't throw stones they say
Don't break down those perfect walls, perfect floors, perfect ceiling
Don't shatter our expectations of you

I threw stones

“YOU’RE NOT REAL” I screamed even as my knees buckled and I collapsed fingers gripping at the sides of my head as though I could make it all stop if only I could break through the fragile casing of my skull and force my finger tips deep into the softness of grey matter trapped within.

I cried then in the way that only children seem to be able to, I cried as I have never cried since that day with heart breaking sobs that made my chest ache even days later.
Days that I do not remember.

I know I stayed there for what felt like a life time, my body crumpled against the unforgiving wooden panelled floor shaking with each new sob that tore at my throat until I was sure that I might soon see blood as well as tears staining the fabric of my little blue jeans.

There were hands then, though I never saw them.
Large and rough with years of labour, they smelled of cigarettes and potting soil… saw dust and engine grease.
Those hands came and closed slowly over mine easing away the pressure of my tiny fingers now tipped with blood where my nails had partly broken the skin leaving red streaks through the tangled mess of sun bleached strands.

Strong arms lifted my body that felt too small… too fragile, like a hollow egg shell that has been pitted against a brick.
That was how I felt then just a shell trying to keep the world at bay.

I remember the dull sensation of eyes staring, burning into me as those strong arms cradled my shell the blur of red against the grey shirt that covered the chest that felt more like a mountain… a fortress that could hide me from the world.

There was no other sound to me then but the footsteps of my human fortress carrying my shell of a body out of the room as my pained sobs cut through the air and buried themselves deep in the psyche of every being there.

I knew somewhere in the back of my catatonic mind that I would never see that room again or the other children and their frightened glances that were always cast in my direction whenever I was caught speaking softly to the man that  paced the halls of our Sunday school.

I would never see the haggard face of our tired teacher, the horrible accusing look he always gave me when I insisted on the pacing mans existence before being sent to stand alone in the farthest corner of our class room.

We passed through the narrow doorway where above there hung a sign.
Fat sprawling letters written in a child’s hand so thickly coated in a smattering of different colored glitters… Jesus loves you.

I closed my eyes.

But still, here I sit
toying with blackened words seeped in sadness
thinking lines like slow decline
broken hearted
so cliche and tear stained pages

clawing my way back from the brink
while shedding verbs of loneliness

isolated desperation clinging like my second skin
slowly flaking from my shoulders leaving only subtle traces
where my new skin yet feels to raw to pick up and carry on

stamping signs of happiness across black lines of begrudged depression
as though a noseless yellow face could succeed where I still fail
to vanquish the unease slowly eating at my restless mind

give me peace from these swinging moods
catapulting me between a selection of unfounded aggression and broken sobbing

I don't want to sit and think
words of how the light seems dim despite its heat

to take beauty out of sunrise
starlit nights and humble silence

take it back and leave me be
though I might not sleep for a week or three
as least I wont sit here late at night
and write depressed poetry

What if you could stand inside me?

Would your hand move with mine?

Would you cry when I cried?

Would we walk together, perfectly in line?

Or would I feel you trailing just half a step behind

Would my eyes become your windows?

And you inside, my soul

Or would I feel you standing there

Looking out, yet strangely blind

If I dared to speak would your mouth move with mine?

Would our voices whisper softly?

Or would you trail just half a step behind

I think if you were to stand inside me

But your hand would never move with mine

Then I would keep on walking while you trailed just half a step
behind

My eyes would never be your windows

As you were inside, my soul

We would never speak together

Your lips would never move with mine

But I think I would love you all the same

Even if you did trail just half a step behind

Can’t help that my voice shakes
I’m standing up here looking out  
With the lights shining on me for the first time

It’s not just my voice that’s shaking
You know that sound right before you speak
When you can hear everyone out there watching
Hear them all holding their breath
Waiting for you to take your first

I’m standing up here looking out
The lights are shining down on me for the first time
I can barely breathe for all the stillness that’s waiting
For me to take my first

I’m sorry that my voice shakes
But it’s not the only part of me that is
I’m petrified to be standing up here
Under the eyes of so many that are far better than I could ever be

I take my first while all of them are watching
My mind hisses with self doubt
And I can’t stop my legs from trembling under me

I think how the laughter might ring out if I were to collapse
But the only thing I can hear is my voice
Echoed out over the stillness
Everyone still holding their breath

Slowly the passion written invisible between the lines of my first
Push’s its way into my voice
Until there is so much of it the shaking is smothered into nothing

I’m still petrified  
As these lights shine down on me for the first time
And I stand before all these people
That are far better than I could ever be
As they all hold their breath
Listening to my first

Suddenly it’s all over  
Every one that sat so silently listening to my first
They stand now
All of these people that are so much better than I could ever be

They are applauding
I am shaking again

I think I will every time I stand up here
Listening to the silence of everyone holding their breath
As the lights shine down on me for what feels like the first time
I’ll still be petrified

Still be sorry that my voice shakes
That at any moment I might collapse
But I’ll always come back

Because the passion written invisible between the lines
Will come out again and smother my shaking into nothing
But I’ll still remember my first

Even on my last
I’ll still be petrified

There were stitches up her leg
watching her walking slight ahead
crossing the street as the skin slowly pulled apart at her seems
transfixing crimson drops
they would fall slowly I thought

I blinked

Just a tattoo nothing more
the blood was gone, I looked away

She turned the corner, I waited for the bus
I watched the edge of her skirt disappear around it
like the coat tails of the white rabbit
looking down, eyes closed
what would that be like...?

A rabbit in a waistcoat skirted the edges of my thoughts
the wind teased cool fingers at the back of my neck

Feels like flying doesn’t it…

A disembodied voice chipping away at my daydream
I ignore it, instead conjuring a hole under my feet just like Alice

What is? my voice answered for me
another chip breaking away
I started down the hole

The wind… when it blows like that it feels like flying

I wished the voice would leave
I wouldn’t know I’ve never flown…

Neither have I…

I could hear the voice smiling
a crack of light broke through my daydream
I turned away from it catching a glimpse of blue coat tails just around the corner

Why is it like flying then?
another chip…

Why isn’t it?

Go away I thought bitterly
the bodiless voice laughed softly
cool air teased my neck, back of my shoulders
I heard the bus pulling up to the stop

Be seeing you then?

My daydream crumbled away into reality
I opened my eyes still looking down

No…
the only answer

Hmm… that’s too bad

Another pause
I looked at the bus doors opening to admit me

Well goodbye then… Alice…

It was smiling again
I shivered, turning to put a face on the voice
Dress it in something more then the sound of its smiling

No one, I stood alone with the breeze kissing my skin and smiled a little

Goodbye… Cheshire cat

I wanted to tell a story
Of how I came to be where I am today
But you see it wasn’t my story

I wanted to paint a master piece
And hang it in a gallery for everyone to see
But remembered someone already did that

I went out and wanted to run around the world
Just like I used to
No wait, that was someone else too

Thought I might be losing my mind
Or already had
They told me I wasn’t original enough for that

Picked up my pen today and wrote something amazing
But it just didn’t feel good enough to share

Read the insanity of others, written into their poetry
And found that I wasn’t alone

I put my words out there with the rest of them

I became an original for the first time
With this beautiful insanity dwelling in my poetry too

Insanity distilled and shared

Wicked, twisted

Beautiful

I, am an invisible post office

A trader of words
The journals to graffiti wall work

Modern yellowed pages
Of forgotten letters

In back rooms
Desk drawers
Old books with dog eared pages

Taking in all of these
Sending them on

Watching the forgotten word spread
A verbal wild fire

Doors close
The invisible post office
Is heading for the next station

He was a strong man
a tall man
though his back was bent with age

He was a wise man
a kind man
with hair of silver grey

He walked with pride beneath each step
though his boots were caked with mud
his hands were worn with years of work
face brown and lined as a leather glove

He passed a man sitting in the street with his hands upon his knees
at his feet an old fishing hat and a sign that read help me please

Here the man did stop and stare when he might have passed him by
instead he got down on one knee as I looked on in awe

He took the stranger by the hands and looked him dead in the eye
Son, I've been in you shoes... please let me give you hope

Then into his pocket he did reach though not for a handful of change
instead he drew out a hundred dollar bill
wrinkled and lined with age
He pressed it into the strangers hands as tears came to his eyes

The kind man stood without a word
then vanished into the crowed

the clock
beside the door
always to keep me on time
now seemed to stop
with my heart
in tune
with the internal mechanism
that was yours
now stopped
by this knock on my door
later when asked
able only to recall
faceless men
in grey
and their words
to me
that you were no more

you are one I will never miss
I will never sit in the bathroom late at night and cry quietly because you are here
there will never be a moment in my life when I stop and wonder what has happened to you, or if you will return

you will never be given the chance to cage my heart or clip my wings
because I have already left you far behind

I will never have my words stolen by you
Or feel helpless because I can not escape you
I will fly higher and faster then you ever let me believe I could

you will never constrict my imagination of what is possible
Or draw lines in the sand I should not cross

your criticism will never silence me
for I am an artist
and you..

you are nothing
but my fear of failure

Dope dealers and addicts
Bragging rights

Court dates to be extended
Paper work in tattered pieces

Borrowed suit with **** in the pocket
First offence...

At least they thought so
Bright spot, only a six month term

Nothing more

But his friend robbed that liquor store
And her friend just did five years instead of life

Young and invincible
Until they're not

Ha ha
Jokes on them
No one gives a ****

Choice made
Life ruined

Next time
Stay home

Dragon lady

Wicked witch

flurry of names that come to mind as you set foot in my domain
disapproval of your glances snapping at my heels
as I glide past

inside there is a hissing chorus
drumming every nerve I've got
raging with this bitter hatred that would cause you to recoil

if you knew

behind the calm exterior
there's a bite like a rattle snake

hackles raised so stay away
back off
get out of my face

sooner then you'd like to think
there will be a day

when the choice will be between you and I
and lady, just a final word of advice

I'm here to stay

I really hate facebook
No really, I do
Everyone I ever knew is on there
Sometimes more than once

500 friends and still no one to talk to
Everyone commenting
But no one’s really saying anything
LOL

Have I mentioned how much I hate you?
Oh look Farmville... again
Gods help me

Another comment box is coming up
I’m being poked from so many different directions
Does anyone own a phone anymore?

HAHA thought someone might remember my birthday
No that was facebook to
Of course

Poke me again and I swear I’ll strangle you with that mouse cord!
Wireless...?
I’ll show you wireless

Family I have never met before wants to add me
Just because we share the same last name
Does not mean I want to know you

I just saw pictures I wish I hadn’t
I think I need to gouge my eyes out
...I’m being poked again

That’s it I’m killing someone!
For the record I told you so
Prepare to die!

LOL
p.s I hate you

It's not you...
but maybe it is

Because you hate them
even though they're just like you

You mirror them
rejecting a reflection that never asked for your opinion

Demanding change from things you never even touched upon

While standing on your righteous patch of ground
You declare that no other could see the world as you do
But your eyes are closed...

I'm confused by your anger

Shouting as street signs for not being trees
parking lots that are not meadows
people

Who just turn away because they think you're insane...

Doomsday won't come tomorrow just because you didn't plant as many trees as you took breaths today
So slow down
please...

Take my advice
our advice
the worlds advice

Take it all and just, come down from your ivory tower
We can take down the bricks together

Plant as many trees as you take breaths in a lifetime

If you could just take the time to listen
you won't lose everything in translation

It’s to loud here
There is to much happening

Everywhere I turn the sound is finding crevasses
Seeping through like rain water
A downpour of noise
It trickles in faster then I can bail it out again
Filling everything

I have no room to think here
The air is made of harp strings all vibrating in a different tone
Shaking all thought right from my head

Enough, this has to stop...
I draw back behind my walls
An island of silence

I watch people slip past my guarded coastline
They call to me

My eyes flick lines of morse code to them
But they are far to busy being loud to hear the soft tick tick of my conversation

I sit alone to watch a muted sunset
Static lapping against my toes in frothy waves
But I don’t hear a thing

Finally, it is quiet

"They took my mom off life support"

That was how our conversation started
My friend cried
he never cries...

I just stare back at him
feeling nothing, but I am crying too

My brain is re-enacting an action without meaning

copy, paste
copy, paste
copy, paste

We cry together

He hugs me and I hug him back
I think how hot he feels
like a fever of grief

His tears are soaking through my shirt, collecting against my skin and sliding down
one by one towards my heart

I can't feel anything anymore... just him
I want to, but I can't... or won't

I know I have all the right words filed away for such a situation

Cue card apologies
Voice recordings in my head on repeat
Other peoples words... not mine

I'm so sorry
I'm so sorry
I'm so...
I'm not sorry

I'm sad for you...
yes... that belongs to me
that I can say

We hug again
He feels like a wildfire against my cold exterior

I'm so sorry
I'm so sorry
I'm... tired of all the pretending

My feelings are currency without value here
so I keep them hidden

I'm not sorry
I can't be
It's not my fault
never was

Cancer can't be my fault, and my currency
well, we both know it has no value to buy back those tears

So, no... I'm not sorry
Those are someone else's words

A million perfect moments in time and everything else is just dust in the wind
Bird wings beating at the air every heart moving as one
To take a breath and know that across the world half of every other living thing is breathing with you
A speck in the universal tides to be snuffed out and never known
Impossible to catch even a second of time where everything is perfectly still
Equally as impossible to have anything in constant motion
The same motion that we are constantly part of
One life falls into the next as the sun follows the moon

There’s a monster in my closet
Sharp eyes watching
Deep growls follow quickly
The door cracks open a little more
I can hear it, can you?
Its claws tugging at the carpet
Curling deep and holding tight
Nightlight flickers
**** that 2 watt bulb
Please don’t fail me now
Hiss, crackle... my lights gone out
The door swings wide
I’m all out of places to hide
Quick for the door
Run! Run!
Faster now, heart racing feet pounding
I’m standing in the hall my back against the door
Breathing hard eyes shut tight
But nothings coming, nothings scratching
Growling, whining at my bedroom door
The hall lights on now bright and warm
Mum has come she’s standing with me
...we both look at my bedroom door
Sheepish smiles, feeling silly
There’s no monster here anymore
No hissing, scratching, whining
No claws curling, digging
Tugging at my bedroom door
There's no monster here anymore

Broken down
Forgotten bodies
Discarded heart beats

Breath stolen out of ignorance
Though damaged life grows like weeds
deserted parking lots become idle playgrounds

It survives, mutates to with stand the pressure
Forged in violence
Blood brothers ebb life life from one another
Drop by drop

Skin thickens
Hardens
Armour plated fall out shelters
Waiting for the winds to change

Scratching out twisted commandments
Handing down life lessons in blood shed
Brutality under a cloak of kindness

Mothers love never feels the same when her breath is seeped in last nights *** acts

Though hope still hangs over doorways
Crucifixes of the innocent still warning off demons disguised like fathers, uncles, brothers

Tear stained pillows can only hold so much betrayal
While stuffed animals stand sentry
Silent witnesses to a side of life no one ever wants to see

I have pockets full of suffering
Stuffed to the brim with doubt
Enough tears to fill an ocean
But enough love to dry it out
I’ve walked a thousand miles with many pairs of shoes
Worn out all my zippers and learned to sing the blues

I’ve seen the tops of mountains
Watched rainbows kiss the sky
Felt the snap of a lightning crack
And earned all my patches too

I’ve held locks of lovers’ hair
Carried shame and pity too
Crossed the spaces on a map
Though on paper they were just an inch or two

I’ve listened to your whispers
Your admiration and your pride
How you can love every part of me
Even those I try to hide

You love my worn out zippers
My pockets full of fears
My heart held on with shoe strings
And the dirt earned over years

You told me I was beautiful
For all the things I’d seen

I told you, you were crazy
But keep talking anyways

I know I’ll settle down one day
When the world feels not so new

My threads will be much thinner then
And I’ll need some patching too

But I hope you’ll still think me beautiful
For all the things I’ve seen with you

Take more then you give
Bet more then you have
Spend more then its worth
Write love in the sand

Forget your moms birthday
Don't say things that need to be said
Go to bed anger
Throw old love letters away

Get to drunk to walk
Throw the first punch
Keep your Ex-girlfriends number on your Facebook phone app

Lose touch with your friends
Drink to be numb
Forget there are people that still want you around

Run up stairs in ****** flip flops
Lie to someone about the scars that you've got

Take it for granted
Forget that your loved

Life is about living
Never ever give up

It's 3 am
again
I hate that word... again
it feels so certain
so absolute

that I might never sleep... again
see?
that's why I hate it
and the way the walls feel too close together
as though they could be listening

slowly compressing the doorway to the bedroom
so that it would be impossible to pass through

that I might never climb between the soft warmth of those covers
again...

thick carpet is curling up between my toes
tickling the tired soles of my feet as I pace

again

passing through the hallway towards the kitchen
lurking shadows of appliances of which the tasks seem to escape me
the gleam of lights on their many polished surfaces

strolling through the living room
open window letting in the night breeze to kiss against the skin I have not covered

again

I cross paths with the coffee table
narrowly avoiding its sleek edges that interject into my nightly obstacle course so stealthily

pausing in the single bathroom to admire
if only briefly
reflected light across her shoulders
curve of her back
down towards her waist and toes

the color of eyes in darkness
the shape of her face and nose

how sweet
how dark, mysterious
quiet, brooding
thoughtful that girl seems to be

depending on the time of night
light from the moon across her face

we meet again

again..

Woman with a stroller speaking
Can see her baby girl is sleeping
Little pink boots out the bottom peeking
Scritch scratch

Bright orange pen bobbing
Lime colored note book I am holding
Feels like everything is unfolding
Scritch scratch

Looking round, strong smell of spices
Business suit and silver glasses
Dreadlocks trailing, wonder how he ties them
Scritch scratch

All these little notes I'm keeping
Find the places I keep seeking
People never seem to see me
Scritch scratch

I'll be gone soon

She never said it
there was no need
dark circles under her eyes said it
the way her shoulders bowed under the weight of it
sadness that clothed her
wrapping itself around every part of her

These things did not need to be said

She stood there silently with a much smaller woman
white hair and hands spotted by age
her face lined but soft as the words that flowed from her
their hands clasped tightly together
heads almost touching

May the Lord clothe you in his love so you shall never walk naked or alone
May he guide you to your rightful place in heaven and welcome you as he does all his children

Her tears began to fall then
it seemed there were far to many

The train stopped and the women slowly parted
though neither spoke
there was no need

Pray for me her eyes said
for soon I'll be gone

you asked
I smiled
my only answer
forever of course

Words fell from my mouth
Like snowflakes or rain storms
And as I stopped to ponder them
I saw the names of other people
Like Dickinson and Frost
They floated between my own words
And changed the few they touched
Until there was little left
But lines borrowed
Then left to dust

Blue and purple patterned upwards
From wrist to elbow
Fine as ivy

Green and yellow discoloration creeping inwards
As roses do when wilting

Her sleeve pulled lower
Hiding her tragic secret under faded cotton
Passing eyes dont question

Knuckles lined, an old road map of aggression
White scars criss cross over old breaks

She was a fighter
And sometimes she lost

A sign, that was all
proclaiming in bold red letters

Salsa On Sale

below the letters a cartoonish Mexican
grinned and danced merrily

draped in his festive looking poncho
his sombrero that seemed to big
even for his shadow

along side him a monkey in a smart red vest
and tiny hat doing the same

tin cup in hand they danced together
trying to entice just a few more dollars from the pockets of the passers by

the irony of the moment struck me...

Monkeys don't like salsa!

Hum... rattle, rattle
Lift eyes from the floor
Up through scratched windows

Who scratches windows?
Another fence

Hiss... doors open again
Uninterested...
Hiss... and closed

No time for your fellow man here
Wondering about those scratches still

Another passing, eyes on the floor
Interesting...
Far more so then them
Temporary companions

Another fence, with bars this time
Hiss... doors open again
...Strange
Hiss... and closed

Scratched windows pass by them
Seriously who scratches windows?

Unkempt yards, barking dogs
More temporary companions

This is my stop
Eyes still on the floor
Uninterested

Hiss... doors open once more
Eyes leave the floor finding only ground
Hiss... and closed again

Scratched windows passing by
Still no answer for that
Hum... rattle, rattle