Easing from the center of a
Six foot ever-green hedge
As if thru an invisible doorway
From Zombie-land
Head first
Eyes like headlights
With high-beams on
Swiveling on too thin neck
Checking the scene
For a victim...
Emaciated shoulders
Pointy knee
Stretches
Ragged pant legs and
Ashy ankles
Flopping shoes… with
Empty lace-holes
Until finally
An entire man
Or what used to be one
Spies me…
But not before I see…
Just trying to get to work
But it’s the two-legged animals
That one must
Beware of
At five a.m.
In the city

≈

Police car cruising
The complex parking lot
Spotlight shines
But I don’t mind
Check me out Mr. Officer…
If you need to …
Cuz I’m not the one you are looking for
So he passes… as
Dusty Perpetrator
Rises
From inside
The dumpster across the way…
Scabby,
Crafty face
Uncomfortably resting under
Debris filled hair
Turns on
Boney neck… and
Spies me…
But not before I see…
Casually shut the door… and
Engage the locks
Cuz it’s the two-legged animals
That one must
Beware of
When the door knob jiggles
In the city

I went to church today
I don't know what I was trying to find
Hopes? Dreams? A figure to follow and some worthy morals?
I wanted advice, I wanted to feel alive

I left there with these words resonating in my head
"Homosexuality and suicide are abominable"
a short phrase that sums the fancy and elaborated speech of the preacher
Only the sinful suffer, and I guess that's why I am troubled.

I've thought of suicide jokingly and seductively
more times that I could possibly count
I have kissed girls and I am openly attracted to them
I am not afraid of saying it and with respect, showing it.

According to the bible;
Lesbians and gays was a punishment for not obeying God
Suicide is a way of controlling your faith
And the only one that has power over you is the Lord.

God gives you what he thinks you deserve
He knows you since before you where born
and because of that he is more responsible of yourself
than yourself itself.

Your brains are too small
how dare you to contradict the all powerful one with such disturbing thoughts?
He created all and everything, all and nothing
He knows what he is doing, and in no way you can try to question him

I felt more small and insignificant than ever,
How did a invisible figure matter more than my logical arguments?
Can't I decide what I want? Isn't it my body and my emotions the one in play?
There's other 8 billion people and you try to guilt trip me because I want to end it all?

Sinners will suffer only the prayer can save you, you can't save yourself, God will save you.
Isn't it better to try to put myself together? Wouldn't I be learning more with that experience?
Instead of repeating words of prayers, shouldn't It try to save myself or solve the problems?
How dare you to contradict the all powerful one with such disturbing thoughts!

If God chooses to give you what he believes is right
Then why am I the one in so much pain?
Why good things doesn't happen to good people and to the bad ones bad things?
Is it because the bad ones will always pray?

I went to church today
I tried to find support,
I wanted to confess
"Hey, I want to kill myself"

I thought that well...
If so many people could feel happy by worshiping
I didn't loose anything by trying
I instead ended up gaining: guilt, trouble, and a feeling that I will burn in hell

Standing on a corner in Montpellier, a woman
shows the truth
the world begs to hear. With her
pale face and red lips, she tells
the stories people refuse.
She is not cruel, but she is
too understanding of the world to elicit the
happiness people so desperately want
to believe in. Those
passing by speak freely, unaware
of her observations, newly cast
stars of the next epic tale. Tirelessly
her hands knot, twist, stretch,
trying to cause the world to see reason,
but she acts on
an invisible stage to an uninterested audience.
She is not crazy, but she knows
the lies they would rather bury.
Bound by the silence
of her words, she paints
pictures in the sky of what we all try not to see.

Laying down
on the ground
thought not found
invisible crown
on that head
killer cold
"oh man, we're old"
soon be dead
not learned
yet
a needle earned
gone fast like a jet
they leave
they leave
they got a ticket
from the street guy
a new trinket
and they'll leave
great goodbye

It hurts to touch betrayal,
to know how cold she appears
to eyes too lonely even to see.
It burns to hold her, embrace her,
to smell the naked emptiness on her skin.

Can you ever understand
the raging, nameless abomination
that fills the bones upon betrayal,
rides the flipping of the heart
and the slow melting of the soul
like a carnival ride so perverse?

She is omnipotent in the mind,
holding thoughts as a python does its food.
She slips her invisible fingers over arms,
makes them tingle with the empty sensations.
I despise her, constant companion
to the lonely man
that I must always be.

I came across a drummer in an open glade
And sat before him to listen for a while;
The beats he played shimmered in the leaves
Causing my spirit to dance in the breeze,
While he closed his eyes to sing his song
And lifted his head to the clear blue sky.
Somehow I found myself doing the same
And in the space between us, my questions came -
Answered by the rhythms in the wind among the trees.

“Tell me, what do the drums speak of?” I whispered to the wind.

“They speak of the mountains, as solid as the earth,
Giving life to clouds and a course for rivers;
They have lasted longer than the oldest buildings,
Yet they must also one day perish -
Without the mountains, there can be no drums.”

“And tell me, what does the rhythm speak of?”

“It speaks of the river that has always flowed, is flowing still,
bringing water to crops and life to the breeze;
Sometimes a torrent and sometimes a brook,
It, too, must one day dissolve in the ocean -
Without the river, there can be no rhythm.”

“And tell me please, what is it that your song speaks of?”

“It speaks of the wind that gives flight to birds and breath to trees,
Heralding the transit of tides and relief from the heat;
Destruction and power dispensed in equal measure -
Unseen by all, yet when my song is gone,
Only the wind will remain.”

And at that moment the drumming stopped,
Like the sound of falling stones;
We lowered our heads, opened our eyes,
And the drummer flashed a dazzling smile,
As bright as the harvest moon.
Then we returned our gaze to the clear blue sky,
Bordered by mountains and trees,
And I could still hear the rhythm of the endless river
Flowing in the breeze.

I looked down once more only to find that the drummer had disappeared,
Leaving in his invisible wake the fluttering of soft Autumn leaves;
And I remained alone in that open glade, perched upon mountains,
Following the river in it’s course through the trees -
While the wind within me whispered:

“So it goes”

i am a lost girl
the kind who will let you stare
into her ocean eyes for free
and swallow your compliments
profoundly eagerly
while always knowing
all nourishment is temporary

i am a lost girl
the kind who has sorrow burned on the inside
of her mouth
nothing can take the taste away
not even love not even people
who said they would stay
because she knows more than anyone
that they never do

i am a lost girl
the kind whose passion will tug on your heartstrings
so hard you will be able to feel
the vibrations throughout your entire body
long after she has left you
covered in kisses and invisible bows
stranded on an abandoned
railroad pleading
for release

i am a lost girl
the kind that knows what she wants
but does not have enough drive or self esteem
to keep  a solid grasp
for certainty has always been like sand
slowly slipping through her fingers

i am a lost girl
the kind that will settle on what little power
she has left
the kind that will sing you to sleep
if in turn you will tell her
just once
that she is beautiful regardless
of if you mean it
or not.