I have nowhere to go,
afraid of my own home
and the creaks,
the way my mother looks at me,
a half starved love,
and my father with his scorn.

Do any of us sleep
besides him?
Keep our eyes open in the dark
for forming faces
over our heads.
He'll slip
like deadweight
into his reflection,
look at us like fleas and roaches,
to scurry at the sound
of footsteps.

On some nights, when I am driving and there are no other cars around, I will close my eyes and see how long I can go without opening them.

At first, it doesn't feel like you're moving forward at thirty, forty miles an hour. It's more like... you're floating. It is void-like—but with road noise.

And then the wheel drifts, causing you to open your eyes and correct your trajectory.

Sometimes I wonder how things would turn out if I just kept them shut.

Lucious Lips
Fingertips

Welcome; take a seat.

White-rimmed Eyes
Opaque Lies

*Would you like to eat?

It's a tragedy

You gaze into green eyes
Upon curves and stretch marks,
Onto a battlefield of scars,

Weilding two calloused hands,
A pair of average ears
All topped off with a crooked smile

A person you've liked, loved
Stares back from the blunt glass mirror
That person, you, is me.  


It's a tragedy