12/27/2019
this emptiness
in my ventricles
could fill a room
and there is not
much else
that i can say.
Dec 27, 2019
Dec 27, 2019 at 6:59 PM UTC
1/8/2019
an argument down below
i get up,
gaze down
from the 16th floor
black sheet over window,
punctuated by this:
orange and white
the concrete of the street
i hear voices
they feel something
i can't find them
i hear them rising with passion
all i can
think is
i agree.
i sit back down
stare at the wall
remember where i am
i
keep
forgetting
Jan 9, 2019
Jan 9, 2019 at 1:04 AM UTC
11/22/2018
the leaves underfoot
i'm here to hear
while i walk in battery park
the river sways, partial to the quay
where moss covered rocks
and gum wrappers lay
and i liken it to my brain,
how it moves between
garbage and rot,
things that have stuck to me
through nature
and time.
i entertain the idea
of jumping into the hudson
shake my head. that'll have to wait for another day
but why?
that i cannot answer.
why the delay?
as i sit and stay and do nothing
hoping it'll get better
it never does
i shake my head
and turn
and walk away
Nov 23, 2018
Nov 23, 2018 at 5:16 PM UTC
things that happened to me
that seemed so full of eternity
and set in green and granite
things i figured i'd never forget.
The city distracts me but
i go back to dry land
everywhere i find evidence of my memories:
people, places, streets, trees,
the laces they took from me at the hospital
i cannot find them-
they lie in a bin,
in a landfill, deep in the ground under the rot
but these memories-
i cannot find it-
the idea they happened to me
i am finding ground
and lying on it
but falling through to the core.
forgetting what it is like
to feel air on my face
to feel my chest when i cannot recall
the feel of anything
or anyone at
all.
the few days i do remember
are vignettes of a film,
stored away in archives and
exploding in a kiln
the other ones run from me in a tunnel
towards green orange and gold days
of leaves, and air, and trees and hay
to lock me out forever
to send themselves away
from me.
to forget my memories
it's like a sickle wedged into my heart,
handle out towards the hand of time that sunk it there
who did it happen to,
and when, and where and why
I don’t know
purple vermillion skies
in October, the turnpike pulsing under me
flying past on an over pass.
Now a year later I lie
in cold sepulcher of room,
wooden smell and dark purple night
I can finally see the stars
but they do nothing for me
except to remind me
they were there this whole time
and remember more than i could ever
dream of.
Nov 9, 2018
Nov 9, 2018 at 12:33 AM UTC
The dew drops off the brown brick still
I am not there to watch it
Back home everything stops
It is hard to imagine my life without me
In the gray city, I lie in bed
For what reason?
Why am I here
As the rain comes down
And washes the garbage away.
Sep 25, 2018
Sep 25, 2018 at 4:25 PM UTC
7/19/2017
"I did, and it broke my heart- into a billion pieces but I had to. I had to."
*"He held up his head with his hand, steadily observing her. He turned to his side fully. She could no longer see his face.
'you don't understand,' he said finally
'i've always been afraid of being an egoist'"*
*"'I've a couple idee fixes'
'not any i need to know'"*
"i'm sick with the idea... sick with it."
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 8:29 PM UTC