He thinks my first name is Sarah Jay
he says it's so pretty the way it rolls off the tip of his tongue
and it reminds him of flowers coming up through piles of snow
He says my lips remind him of space itself
because every time he presses into them
his eyes seem to close
and he's left with comets and Jupiter and Pluto and stars
he's left with a feeling like all that baggage he carries is nothing
He thinks I see the same thing as he
Really I just see black blemishes and red spots
I see memories that should've already been forgotten
He says his home is in the nape of my neck
and if it were possible for a person to shrink to microscopic size,
he'd camp in the crevices of my collar bones,
he'd cut out a house in my jugular
he said It would be an honor to drown in my blood
I'd like to tell him he'd suffocate with smoke
He thinks the gold strands at my roots aren't real noticeable
He wants to see what I looked like before I went Jet
He says when I sing it puts him in a trance
he forgets the cigarette burns his father applied to chairs
he forgets his mother returning at strange hours reeking of sex and Johnny
he forgets that he's even alive
He thinks I don't smoke
He thinks I could really make it somewhere
But you can't make it somewhere when you are living a lie.
a river. a sister born without eyes. a sponge that is not your mother’s mouth.
commonplace is a toddler’s map. memory an unremarkable trauma.
I sign to sister how there’s no hot water in the house & count father’s burn money
where you can see it.
the son most likely to catch a program on flamingos
thinks of himself on one leg
and of a land
a man is standing on a kitchen table gripping a broom.
his inbox will fill for three days
before the dogs
memory does not serve the woman
Some smokey memory
hidden in a deep recess
reminds me death is a friend
I so crave that light I’ve known
That night I pounded the floorboards
curled my body around leg chairs
clung to my mothers old womb
crying to the moon
shouting questions silently
why… Why… WHY?!
Sprouted from your womb, I wish to return
growing from your consciousness
I wish to dissolve
I was a fire in the eye
eyeless in its completeness
vision in its blankess
burn through me
burn me whole
How do I love thee?........first four words of one of your favorite sonnets.
I could never stop counting the ways or comparing thee to a summer's day.
Te amo bebe....Je t'aime nebe.....Ich liebe dich, baby.....all languages = same.
No duress here.....I choose to live life on a maybe you will or wont love again.
No duress.......I choose to love you and that would be nobody's business.
Goto Nordies, Sharper Images, etc.......any of your favorites to shop.....my treat.
Time for annual meeting Mr. Frustration......Pls accept what I'm happy to buy.
Any other lady would be chomping at the bit, thrilled, I'm using no limits cards.
Big surprise for you my Pet.........hope you like and there's no need to ship it.
It's a little something I bought just for me and you with thoughts of our future.
Bought matching wheel chairs so we can ride off into the sunset to Gray land.
Ms. Betty Ponder, I adore and give you my heart.....I love you and always will.
If you choose to cast me aside.....history will most definitely repeat.......I go
alone to same place I went the last time you walked out of my life.....
I'll take our happy memories......scent of your body and your perfume.....
sound of your laughter and sexy voice forever recorded....visions of eyes...
gazing up at me in deep passion.......and abundant qualities that make
you my only unforgettable shorty and gorgeous Ms. Betty Ponder.
He looked me in the eyes and said, "what do you wanna be?"
Looking down was the only direction I've known,
before I knew that sentences could end with question marks,
instead of periods.
He looked me in the face and said, "what do you wanna be?"
The smell of old chairs around a wooden table and the sound of
gossip from the floor above.
This was my life and I always pictured it in italics,
aligned to the left and initials on the bottom in bold.
He looked me in the soul and said, "what do you wanna be"
Music was blaring and I could hear it in my chest.
The day time collapsed and they told me this was the beginning,
though it was not the day I was born.
I flipped through an old black leather book and found the letters
I wrote to the boy across the oceans.
He looked me in the heart and said, "what do you wanna be?"
I told him I wanted to be the person to change his mind.
I wrote my ideas in that black leather book,
with my initials on the bottom in bold,
and his love in italics.
The other lovers – and endless list. Lying likes lisps upon my lips.
Names, I refuse to repeat for fear of judgment from peers.
Not practical in the slightest sense. Perhaps idiosyncratic in insanity’s eyesight.
The dominant ones I desire to dominate. Remove them from positions of power
with the obsolete force of lust.
Graceless bitterness – the only complete feeling; injecting sour thoughts
into the crevices of jealous minds.
Binds erode the skin of my wrists and tie me to burning chairs at the center
of isolated rooms. While the whip of the hose leaves no marks despite the thousand lashes.
Is there any escape from the synthetic machines I crafted within the twisted corners of my imagination.
Once love, now only relentless envy for those I would never be with
despite how much I tricked myself into thinking otherwise.
There is something strangely
Waking up before the sun -
Tiptoeing around the house
While everyone sleeps
I take a seat by the window,
On freshly chilled
Leather chairs -
Inhaling the dawn of
The silence is nostalgic,
My hushed breathing and
Tiny tocks on the the clock -
It makes my heart drop
In an inexplicably sad way
Curled into a ball, I begin
To drift slowly
As if I woke before my time -
The dawn is lavender grey,
The birds are awake.
A twin bed in big enough for two
Perhaps those two chairs are for me and for you.
Even your car says to leave you be and I will never understand how winter
Can harden your heart.
In this house glasses fog and furnaces roar with every passing moment but everything inside coolly whispers
Faster and softer with every heartbeat nervously pounding on my lungs
As my breath gets louder as my throat closes and my mind races
To images of Christmas lights and coffee, gloves and sweaters
Complaining about the cold knowing there's nothing we can do about it.
So we go home and watch a movie drinking hot chocolate from coffee mugs.
Waking up the next morning on a twin bed made for one.
I will never understand how silently you live your life.
A spark from a match can become a candle or a wildfire, one fades and one scars.
And you can drive your car anywhere you like but where will you go alone?
You can sleep every night but what will you do by yourself?
You have a voice you don't use but to sing your praises and excuse yourself but you have a beautiful mouth
That you can use to form the most beautiful words.
And even goodbye
Men prefer loneliness from time to time and that's okay but not this winter.
Not this winter.
there's an empty seat at that table
but I don't even have to look up
to know I'm not welcome there,
the scraping of chairs and clattering of forks
everything suddenly become so loud
it's like everyone's trying to make a conscious effort
to drown me out,
my head rings and spins with uncertainty
I'm lost in a sea of kids looking with unwelcoming stares
and unfamiliar faces,
I don't belong here