1)
don't forget to keep breathing
cradle-rock your heart
soothe your ribs
don't forget to breathe
2)
the cold is natural
bundle up now
you can always shed
your skin
when the sky turns
3)
don't linger
in the places you once Were
keep moving else
your blood settle
4)
late night parking decks
hotel rooftops
yourSelf a whisper
honeysuckle blooms through
concrete wounds
5)
don't think about waking
ripping out of your body
clawing through the coffin and up
and up
your gravesite is spotless still
6)
dream
cool rich earth
lilies and lavender
whisper rustle of leaves
dream
7)
dream
heavy water
lake mud and rock ****
desperate silence
dream
8)
dream
hunger
Hunger
H u n g e r
dream
9)
dream
slow opening
granite doors and damp moss
spaces between absent heartbeats
wake
10)
the hollow is natural
the brain craves familiarity
the phantom mirrors the physical
the hunger will fade
for a time
11)
when eating cherries
don't forget to imagine a tongue
12)
remorse with me
may the living one day
bestow our graves with offerings
we starve in silence
13)
hollowing may beget holiness
but it doesn't denote such
divinity must be earned
few buildings have managed
14)
you can almost smell his skin
stomach rising and falling
best not to dwell
his life is no longer yours
15)
phantom petal flesh
teeth and thrush
rosethorn oleander s e e p ing black
curses and
sinking
forest rot
deep
soil
16)
do not follow
when the wind asks your counsel
when the moon thorn buds
when the night screams bruiseblueblack
do not seek the woods alone
17)
don't dwell
it's natural to feel exposed
keeping space beside you
will only make missing them worse
18)
let the ceiling fall
it is beyond your power
stars make fairy lights
through the frame of branches
as it should be
19)
Death is a story keeper
an archivist
a library of everything
from the first atoms
to the last sparks
20)
don't worry
the house hasn't moved
since you last saw it
though the tree seems closer
21)
press yourself into
the size of a fist
wrap clockwise around
his heart
cherish the fleeting creature
22)
there is always
my s p a c e
left in the bed
when I come home to
haunt
23)
there is
My space
left in the house
when I come Home to
Haunt!!!a
Zombie
24)
missed exit
streetlights smeared by rain
vacant hotels
liminality made nostalgia
25)
tracing paper kisses
early spring thaw
did I melt away too
26)
isn't is strange
your shadow doubles
film printed over film
light runs through you
heat waves off pavement
27)
time will slip off you
don't cling to it
you'd have better luck
holding the sun
time is beyond you now
28)
the hunger doesn’t fade
it twists itself into sickness
an unfillable void
29)
let your heart fill
with paint and
dust
like the nail holes in plaster
last remains smoothed over
30)
there is no place
for you here
why do you insist on
lingering
31)
this house is a heart
you
are a phantom gunshot
32)
do you remember
a sharp pain where your lungs should be
the pressure of blood stagnant
33)
molars, incisors, canines
rigid and Real against
the memory of your tongue
a sharpness drawing blood
staining the sidewalk beneath your false feet
34)
your body is
wet rot and beetles
a collection of rooms
teeth and stomach and hollowing all disarticulated
a knife in a box
35)
sunlight breaking dust layers
the curtains wave lazily
someone has tracked mud through the halls
a splintered attic door hangs off
its hinges
the air tastes green
36)
when you finally become hollowed
the space between houses
the space between ribs
the space between teeth
the light that pours out
you will be made holy
in your Own image
37)
thick ozone at the back of your throat
rainless thunder rolls
the old piano shuffles untouched
a discordant funeral keen
the air ignites
38)
elevator doors close
open
close
stale cigarettes and cleaning chemicals
fluorescent buzzing
vacant sobs in an airy tomb
of concrete
39)
parking decks remain
a kind of home base
for those of us lacking liminality
every one is the same
and as such becomes intimately familiar
no matter how far it means you are
from home
40)
how many eyes are you supposed to have
what about teeth
count them in the mirror
again
again
Again
41)
beauty is in the eye
gnashing teeth
silent weeping
love lies not in the heart
nor head
but in the stomach
42)
skin peels back
muscles made of embroidery thread
birch bones bleeding
indigo
flesh transmuted
43)
you move through the world
as it moves through you
silently creeping
swirls of smoke and fog
filling up to your sternum
44)
wander
for a time
everything will be unfamiliar
on your journey and
return
to a stranger’s home
45)
dust to dust
and ashes to ashes
your headstone crumbles
your bones are meal
the world in which you haunt
will one day be far removed from
your own
46)
study the web
the winding and stretching of gossamer
collapsed in on itself
clustered with dew
47)
study the shell
the crests and smooths hard as bone
fragile against your fingers
an inner matrix of holes
48)
study the nest
the braiding weaves of branch and thread
fractured to one side
feathers slip asunder
49)
study the desk
the crags and slopes of precarious inkstaining
spilling frozen towards the floor
fine filtering of dust
50)
remember
what Precisely is a
Haunted
house
51)
Congratulations on Completing Part I of Your Introduction Handbook
Please Continue onto Part II
52)
fallow hearts sewn full of seed
bones with the crack and bend of trees
pressed petal flesh bruiseblack at the knees
when building a new body don't forget what it needs
53)
liminality is a current
riptide in some places
burble in others
watch for waterfalls
death doesn’t mean you're a strong swimmer
54)
builders write messages
on the innermost workings
of their buildings
behind the plaster disintegrating and
the wallpaper peeling
a belly button
a birthmark
55)
when the moon calls your name
listen
when the raven screeches warning
heed
when the voices of a house offer deals
Run
56)
kitten-footed fog
follow it through
the tall thin trees
until you see lights
then follow it
home
57)
tell me about humanity
does it hurt you
is it heavy to bear
or is it just breathing
one foot in front of the other
a faded photograph
58)
rivers slip blue
through the land like veins
cornflower and cobalt
cold tissue paper flesh
59)
missed connection
you left flowers
three graves down
I was in white
under the maple tree
60)
missed connection
you look so lovely
in blue
I'm right here
just turn around
61)
missed connection
every sunday
you walk
bakery library home florist cemetery
you talk to yourself
I always answer
62)
missed connection
you talk in your sleep
do you sense I'm there
deep in your bones
do you know you'll never
be alone again
63)
missed connection
I smashed a plate
and spent all night playing
in your wires
can you feel me now
in the light bulbs humming
64)
missed connection
you haven't spoken since
it's so silent I could be heard
I'm sleeping in the walls
singing for you
65)
missed connection
you were up all night
researching the supernatural
I'm right here
just see me
66)
missed connection
sunday you started talking
to me
we took a new walk
library shopping district cemetery home
notes and candles and blacksalt
a rubbing of my gravestone
67)
missed connection
nothing we tried worked
you still can't see me
you can just hear
my humming in the power sockets
my singing in the walls
68)
missed connection
I wrote you a letter
with leaves under your staircase
you swept them without noticing
singing one of my songs
69)
missed connection
you found a picture of me
framed it
sometimes you leave letters
my name on the front
hidden in the table drawer
70)
missed connection
I tried writing on glass panes
whispering in your ears
you tried spirit boards
seances and divination
I'll never stop
as long as you live
71)
missed connection
you stopped leaving letters
sunday walks abandoned
for living friends
I shorted out the tv
you don't come home much
anymore
72)
missed connection
you started driving
to nowhere
I tucked myself
between
the back seats
you locked eyes with me
through oncoming headlights
73
missed connection
I broke every mirror
ran screaming through the wires
the curtains are catching fire
can you still feel me
do you still know I'm here
74)
missed connection
you look so lovely
in black
just turn around
please turn around
I'm right here
always
Nov 17, 2021
Nov 17, 2021 at 1:03 AM UTC
I am not some bug to be kept in a jar
Just so you can tap the glass
And watch me squirm around.
I managed to worm my way out
From under your bloated thumb
And metamorphosised
From the fragile moth
With the wings you pulled off
Time
And time again
Into something
With a backbone
That will bite that hand that feeds her
If it's joined to the mouth
That fed poison into her ears
In the manner
Of Claudius,
(Shakespeare’s infamous snake-tongued king of stolen crown),
Causing her skin to
Rot and
Fester
With every
Wayward glance at
Her reflection.
The mouth
That hid blows
In honeyed words;
Every nearly-aced report card
And shiny new “Participant” ribbon
Met with
“That’s great.
But,
You could do better.”
You laid eggs
Of doubt and anxiety
So deep in my brain
I may keep discovering them until
The world drowns in endless void, and
My new spine turns to dust.
k.f.
May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 10:21 PM UTC
I crop the lungs from my ribcage,
Tearing through the fragile shell of muscle and bone;
A tissue paper tomb.
They lay on the ground,
Spread before me in breathless anticipation.
I slit them open, so they're no longer valises of air,
But instead
Lay flat,
Like cloth waiting to become part of a greater whole.
I compose a sturdy pair of wings
From my pair of feeble lungs,
And like Icarus before me I'm ready to dive into the air,
The heat of the sun on my back,
The deadly thrill of salt spray on my tongue.
My feet are
Weightless
As I run towards the edge,
The toes of my scuffed shoes barely touching the ground,
And as I hit open air my wings capture the wind,
Lifting me higher into the sky.
The view would leave me breathless
If I had any breath left to lose.
With a gasping throat I dip towards the turmoiling sea of energy:
Trying to taste your life in the thrall,
Trying to find your light amidst the spray.
But your sourceless heat is scorching my lungs,
Despite the disconnect
I'm choking,
Plummeting,
Charred membrane flapping in tatters,
Streamers of flesh
Turning my death from tragedy to ceremony.
Crashing at your feet,
Broken and spent but thrilled all the same.
You stare at me,
A sick combination of shock and consternation,
Kneeling beside my dilapidated form,
As with a heaving chest I try to breathe in
Some of the life you bleed
Even though my lungs lie in ruin
Around me.
k.f.
Apr 20, 2015
Apr 20, 2015 at 8:00 PM UTC
I've spent the past decade
And then some
Drowning.
I'm curled fetaly,
Cradling the anchor seared
Against this inside of my ribs.
I've managed to keep my head
Above the waves,
Even with a tempest
Crashing,
Beating,
Breaking,
Forcing
It's
Way
Into
My
Lungs,
If only just barely.
There have been so many
Failed lifelines,
False shore sightings,
Ghost ships burning bright on the horizon.
But I continue to tread water,
Resigning myself to a life of chocking.
One day you floated by,
Quietly in time with the sunrise,
And I felt lighter
Simply from your proximity.
You stayed a while,
And as hours passed
I felt myself falling for you.
You reached your hand out,
Gave me a lifeline,
Gave me a handhold
With you.
Whispered promises
In the middle of the night,
Hushed attempts to cease my crying,
To assure me you wouldn't let me sink,
Even as I screamed at you
To let me go
In the midst of the thrall.
I pushed you away,
Fervent in the desire
To save you,
To get you to the eye,
So I could drown guiltless.
k.f.
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 2:38 PM UTC
The hollowness behind my ribs doesn't cease, and curious I decide to take a look. I claw my way through only to see that where my heart should be is an IOU with your signature. My lungs have been slashed open like a pair of tires, and I realize you've carved your initials into them. With shaky hands I thread a needle to close up the mess, only to find myself an hour later staring at my gore covered palms. Somehow the thread around my wrist is untouched, but tighter in your absence. You walk in, but keep your distance because the hole in my chest makes you sick and I promised not to upset you. I smile falsely and hide the gouge behind hoodie zippers and bird chatter, distracting you from caring.
k.f.
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC
You fell in love
With a girl made of
Ice,
And wax,
And candle wick.
All the while forgetting
That your fingers are
Matches
And her lips are
Crimson match-paper
That you can't resist touching.
Your kisses leave a
Wispy trail of airborne
Gasoline,
Wandering down her neck
To the fountain of her collarbone.
Her tongue
Is shrapnel,
Pressed
Behind
Military
Cemetery
Teeth.
The words that spill
In euphonious cacophony from
Her fire starting lips
Sometimes sting,
But you know
It's only payback
For the way
Your kisses
Burn.
k.f.
Mar 11, 2014
Mar 11, 2014 at 7:43 PM UTC
Fill my lungs with flowers;
Vases for your affection
And yours alone.
Sip the frozen smoke rings
In stumbling drunk motions
As they dribble from my lips.
Mold me as clay;
I was born
To fit in your
S p a c e s.
Dig your fingers
Underneath my ribs.
Bury your pain in the absence
My heart left when
I handed it to you,
Wrapped in brown paper and string.
My hands are a coat rack,
A place for you to leave your fingers
When otherwise occupied.
My eyes are the mirrors
In which you peer
To try and see what it's like to
Love you.
My skin is your canvas
But you're too gentle
To urge a purplish bruise to
The milky surface.
Instead your touch
Rouses a rose petal
Blush;
A flower tint
To your maiden
Fashioned of snow.
k.f.
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 7:06 PM UTC
I'm pacing the dusk dark
Of my backyard,
Feet sinking in the
Winter-softened ground.
One headphone in,
Singing to me of summers
I never experienced,
Ignoring the sirens
The next street over;
Stanching the fire,
Calming the blaze.
I glare at the blossom-less
Magnolia tree;
The absence of the flowers
Screams yours too loud
In the forced quiet.
Strip me from your branches
Like winds ripping
Away
The rotting white petals
Clinging to life.
Does my scent cling,
To your clothes,
Your skin,
Your lips?
Or does it leave,
Rippling off you
In
Curling
Smoke
Blossoms.
Did you know
That the heat of
Your finger tips
Leaves cigarette burn scars,
Coiling galaxy spirals on
The small of my back,
Pressed against
The spaces of my ribs.
On my autopsy they will discover
Marks from your lips
Seared into my bones;
My knuckles,
My neck,
The curve of my shoulders,
The sharpness on my collar bones.
k.f.
Jan 25, 2014
Jan 25, 2014 at 5:37 PM UTC
Her prayers are
Breathy I love you's,
Warm and pained against your skin.
Your body is her altar,
Her temple,
The cathedral surrounding her
In her heartbroken worship
As she unravels,
Crying,
Shaking,
Clinging to you with
Everything
She
Has
Left.
The shattered pieces
Of her heart are the broken winged swallows,
Flocking in fluttering storms
In your bell tower,
Nesting in your rafters
Alongside the owls you've let be
To this point,
Content to allow them to roost.
Her hands are your bibles,
The creases telling a thousand stories
Of the girl who weathers the fiercest storms,
But falls apart at the seams
For love of you.
Your laughter serves as her hymns,
Ringing through the expanse of you,
Singing in her ears.
Sometimes she tries
Laughing alongside you,
But her voice cracks
Like an untuned piano
Whenever she opens her lips
To add her laughter to
Your songbooks.
You each find a different kind of heaven
In the stained glass windows
Of the other's eyes.
Hers are the ocean,
Deep and stormy,
Only ever calm
Just before lightning shakes her frame,
Rain and froth
Pounding
Against the glass,
Breaking it's way through,
Trying to flood your halls
As the tempest carves new legends
In her outstretched hands;
New biblical stories to lose yourself in.
She finds summer nights in your gaze,
Bonfires dappling damp grass,
And a boy
Laying on the hood of a run down car,
Staring too intently at the stars
To truly register their fragility,
Their mortality,
Even as they plummet from the sky,
Bursts of white light
Reflecting gold through green glass.
The comet-light ripples,
Climbing to the rafters,
Startling the owls from their perches,
And you can feel them thrumming,
Beating their wings against the ceiling of your ribs.
k. f.
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 5:57 PM UTC
You come to me at night
Crying and slick with the cold sweat of a new nightmare.
I hold you in my arms as best I can;
Your head pressed in the space just below my collarbone,
My chin resting in the tangled mess of your bed-head.
But it's too real and too perfect to be anything but fiction
And when you lift your head to pull away
Your cheeks and eyes have sunken,
The promise of a skeleton's smile dances on your thinned lips.
My bones become ice,
As I wait patiently and petrified
To wake up to empty sheets and cold floors
Even as you stare at me with somber puppy eyes,
Still ringed with red despite the glowing shadows that are becoming your face
k.f.
Dec 16, 2013
Dec 16, 2013 at 4:39 PM UTC