Last night,
I told Jupiter
to sell me one of her
many moons.
Well, you can't have
Callisto.
How about Europa?
No.
Then can Amalthea
become my own?
There was silence
in waiting
for
what
I'd expect.
it's been quite
a while
actually,
a good many months
until I remembered
that small dot of silver
hung up in my room.
just where it
belonged
I found myself too.
I spoke with Jupiter
for an hour tonight
She asked "How is Thea?"
I said,
"She's doing all right."
How good of her
to want to know.
My moon is my anchor
and I love her so.
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 2:44 PM UTC
My head aches
the smashing of
a hammer
pounding in
the nail.
The pain of plucking
every hair from
my body,
and scratching
my skin 'til
tiny red spots appear
they
decide
when
to
clear.
All this and
no relief
from
the
hurting
that's
inside.
so,
I'll
continue
too
bear
every
bit
of
this
suffering.
Jul 24, 2015
Jul 24, 2015 at 5:16 PM UTC
One day,
maybe
I'll
tell it to you
like a secret
kept
between
two
friends.
while
my
lips
move
closer
to
your
own
and you
think
what then?
.
.
you'll know.
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 7:16 PM UTC
I can't stop thinking,
as if these thoughts
will not form
tears on my pillow
when the dark comes.
Could you take this night?
and hold it tightly
to these shoulders
quaking beneath
this blanket of fear.
Tell the moon
to bring
the light
close.
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 2:55 PM UTC
I am no...Annie Leibovitz
weilding frames per second
in an angled lens
while you tilt your head back
to laugh at whatever it was
that I said.
It's beautiful.
The sound of your laughter
filling in-between pauses
like music,
so sweet and so dear
but I am no Henry Purcell.
The Fairy-Queen lilts like a bell.
It's all so much like magic
how tragic it is
to have your eyes see mine
and still never know I exist.
I am no Girl With A Pearl Earring
I just find you endearing
how if Sandro had found you
decades ago
You would be Venus
and I would be Picasso.
Both so different yet striking
and maybe you'd know
You are my everything.
Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 5:38 PM UTC
It's peanut butter crackers
and diet coke.
A time to reflect on choices,
life, failures, economic goals.
In the background,
without sound
there's a shadow,
never stitched
nor set by adhesive.
It's simply there
like I am
on this carpet,
Indian style
wondering if
someone can see this.
This body,
this soul,
this crippling person
who flicks bits of toasted crumbs
from her lap.
Staring into an enormous oblivion
wishing to swallow her whole
until nothing remains
but the shadow.
This is depression
at it's finest.
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 8:51 PM UTC
How is it
one can make
their first kiss
different from
their last?
because their
first kiss
was the last kiss
they ever
experienced
in
their
past.
it's a foreign concept
to accept
in such extreme times
but
maybe the first kiss
was a mistake
forcing lips without
a meeting of the minds.
where consent
should be constant
but this won't be like
the last time.
sine the next kiss
will be the first kiss
of
her
life.
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 4:40 PM UTC
The space between
your fingers,
your breaths,
is there room enough
for me to find
a little place?
because love is not
a person
nor is it a chase.
Love is a soul
that invites people
inside
to say grace.
For every ounce of
love that leaves
its trace
upon that soul
who says,
"Come there's room enough."
you're home.
Jul 5, 2015
Jul 5, 2015 at 8:11 PM UTC
The birds flew south
in the summer
I guess
the weather
wasn't warm enough
for them.
Jul 2, 2015
Jul 2, 2015 at 6:20 PM UTC
I thought I could
out run my demons
but they still
f i n d m e
in the dead of night
next to the water
gone cold in the basin
from the blood I scrubbed
from myself
l a s t n i g h t.
these stars that fall
onto my body
won't come off
so they leave scars
that I hold tightly
sewn together like
w i s h e s l o s t
to the dark.
my arms are empty
yet, so full
of what I carry
deep inside
that when I awake
in the morning
it makes me wonder
w h y?
but tiny cuts
hold big secrets
that never heal
the wound.
so I will run
for the very reason
that weakness is a
s i l e n t r o o m
so, if you ask:
"thoughts for a penny,"
I'll just bargain for a tomb
since all these whispers
live too haunt me
I run...
I fall...
I ..... l o s e.
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 7:56 PM UTC