they say time is a circle
so as we desperately fled it's clutches
we also hurried with open arms.
cat and mouse, oil and water
the story where you were jesus
and i the cross for you to bear

my lips are sewn shut
with a rusty needle and
your hair--
the sharp twine that keeps me from spilling open.
(contents under great pressure).
what would happen if I did?
hair can burn and shrivel
the caustic ash from a cigarette
and the prying of my small fingers.
but if I were to open wide
there would be no sound
Just rivets of tar and streaky blood ocean
and the seeds from the strawberry patch.
stuck in this glass box with no drain
I become the girl in the well
the ***** of babylon
judas' kiss.

i guess I'll finally get what you said I deserve

i remember when you told me you loved me--
i remember laughing at the irony
i remember the last time i saw you
your final expression frozen in time
crimson dribbles staining your bedsheets

(i have dug my own grave and
that is where you'll find me waiting)

it is now apparent to me,
the hole in my heart
is greater than the sum of its parts.

my mind's eye rolls
across the dusty, ashy floor
like the proverbial meatball in children's songs.

in it's place, maggots--
the same that feasted on your putrid flesh
when they pulled you from the drowning pool.

your body hot, yet a cold stiff blue--
the idea of the god you loved, you trusted
decaying alongside of you.

they took the scalpel to your splitting skin
and in that sterile room you bled--
not crimson, nor ruby, but white as the fallen snow.

puddles on the floor like coffee cream,
in the chapel he stared straight ahead,
a stranger's ******* in his pocket, smelling of dollar store perfume.

your books, browned, arrived on my doorstep,
i gathered all my arms could hold--
swallowing the parchment page by page.

once touching my devil's tongue
the frayed pages caught flame
a layer of soot coating my insides, acrid and bitter.

was i already viscous and curdled?
or was your ending just the catalyst?
roses bloomed across my cheeks, and fear.

as i lay me down to sleep,
and try to slice open the darkness in me
instead of blood, i see milk.

it's nights like these that i want
nothing more than to grip the wheel
of the suv that i don't pay for
forget the complacency of life in
this 1000 square foot cage
or the smaller cage
the one my bones made for me
the one that's never small enough

--she relies on me, you say
but when it's quiet my minds eye is lazy
diaphanous and turned inward.
untoward numbers
irreparable mistakes
the harsh slap of brevity
mirrored in the wet pavement

i see myself in it's penumbra.
i see myself in the windshields of the passing cars
their scintillating headlights
as addicting as the sharp inhale of our morning cigarettes
a slicing denouement to my woes.

--it's all i can do but not to turn the wheel
to do so would be evocative
(yet ineffable)--
but the excitement is ephemeral
as my minds eye blinks open
and yet again i am filled with ennui.
and yet again i turn off the ignition.

thin mints
thin lines
thin ice
"get thin now for the low price of
your soul and entire indisposable income"
thinning hair
thinning patience
thinning shears
"wow what an amazing deal!"


i'll take it

my resolve called a code and the nurse and
i need your help to stop the wailing--
give me a home and i can nurse you with
the blood under my skin. you see
i am **** and jello and your face is
such a sight for blind eyes and
please go buy flowers for me--
while they're still fresh in their graves/
when you go i'll molt my feathers and
choke on the honey you left me--
and with my red stained gloves
i'll cut your umbilical cord.
he'll be mine and i will be yours.