She fits inside a shoe box?
How can that be?

A mourning card, a birthday card, a cartoon on a napkin. A wire bra, a notepad, her photograph softly smiling.

Now she is a voicemail that I still replay.
Now she is that song? That breaks me everyday.
Now she is a twinkling star winking high above me. Now she is a butterfly her wings look oh so lovely.

Will I too fit inside a box?
With no name written on it.
Closed with a yellow rubber band
Sitting on top of the closet?

Like I’d been struck by lightning
Electrically abuzz
grasping
For a rope then a bottle
Of anti anxiety pills
love no longer within
My reach.
Everything so bright so loud filament bulb burning my eyes full of
hot salty tears
clenched like clamshells.
Veins overflow like spring rivers in my head.
boom boom boom.
Faster
boom boom boom.
Boom boom boom.
BOOM BOOM BOOM

I’m dying for your love
And you’re just standing there
bloodless
thinking about beers because you need to be drunker for this.

What’s wrong with her? Why can’t she be happy? I want her to be happy.

And I want to die. But not now at your feet writhing in pain, ignored, because it hurts that when you see me like this you blame yourself.

Don’t blame yourself
see how much I love you?
cut my wrists, string me up by my ankles, drink my blood tell me there’s nothing wrong with me that I’m enough and it’s okay I’m not happy.

And you’re just standing there bloodless thinking about **** because you need to be higher for this.

So I pick myself up and swallow the stone in my throat that held back the deluge of all the vomitous feelings pill by pill like pounding rain going down down down.

Fading melting light
key in the ignition
I leave you behind
I drive myself to say
I took a bottle of pills.
Im not happy.

After thoughts as the lights dim:

I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I am sad. I’m sorry I never felt like I was enough. I’m sorry I made you feel bad. It was me all along who hated myself and was too scared to make a change. I’m sorry I scared you. I’m sorry I couldn’t rearrange my brain.

I am the one people warn you about the dark secubus that ***** everyone dry. A demon. A curse. Leave me in my hole. Bury me in the ground and don’t mark my grave.

Then, be happy.

To
Lick between each of your toes
And chew on the crunchy grains of sand
And pick the purple lint
From your belly button and rub it on my gums

To bury my head in the hairy pit of your arm
And there make a nest for the night
Like a little weaver bird.

To let you spit into my mouth
And swallow it down
Like water from a mountain spring
with glass translucent fish.

To dig out your earwax with the tip of my pinky and sculpt a bust out of it
Because of your perfect Roman nose

To wear your hair like a coat
To the viennese ball and spin spin spin spin

You my love, light me up within.

to rot madly chanting I’m not free neither are you nor are we. freedom is the lie woven in the cloth of our flag- well constructed prisons- a world of body bags.

If the world falls apart tomorrow
At least I have a clean kitchen
And if the world falls apart tomorrow
At least I took the trash out
And if the world falls apart tomorrow at least I made the bed
if the world falls apart tomorrow at least I got the mail
if the world falls apart tomorrow
At least I paid my rent
if the world falls apart tomorrow
So what?

Picking petal
letting go of grasp
Feeling second after softness
Observing its dappled spots
Like a baby deer in a beech forest

Picking leaf
glowing green waves bouncing away
at the end of a long day

It is orchid hour of purples and pinks and
the waves scatter silver mercury moon drops atop the grass;

now the amphibious bull frog basses join a chorus of grasshoppers tuning their bow legs while the stars come in to focus through spy glass fingers.

All of this smeared under a blue canvas sky with clouds that are obviously paint.

Id like the quiet now please
I’d like the space. Expanding, curving, space finite as everything else. Everything ends don’t you see?

Over ten thousand years of life and death and not a trace of evidence can be found.
Houses fall into the sea, rocks grind to sand, even the thousand year oak will fall, rot and feed the maggot who lives his life in seconds.

Look back, see your shadow that is all there is- the great boulders you have yet to push up the hill those too will roll back into the dark and backward abyss.

Enjoy now: orange juice, blue sky, velvet leaves, pointy pen, words like isosceles and econlockhatchee, call to prayer, hail Mary’s, watermelon, ******* icicles, words for love in other languages, capybara swimming, a good curse like *******, a living corals reef, soul food soul music, drum solo, soft salty butter, curler fern, thunderous clouds, copper hair, resonant cathedral, stalking tiger, McDonald’s cheeseburger, silver fish, dancing sunbeams, Spanish wine, beach plum jelly, the smell of sulfur, crashing wave, skate’s eggs, pine cones, cold granite, sticky peanut butter, igloo fantasy, clear running river, red fox cub, aurora tbt, back pain, hang nail, diva ballads, cactus water, marble carved light as silk, cuckoo clock, tiki torch, ouvea cave, blue moonlight, dew drop, Harley Davidson motorcycle, whistling wind, lighting bug, dandelion tea, himalayan salt, rose bud, scarlet blood, snake scales, dead smell, whoosh, fear, memory loss, saturn up there, kittens, clam chowder, big big ocean, hard hard rain, salty air lost at sea empty, full, drink, alive, freckles, our song, honey bee.

Pretty good stuff.

Can I leave this meat and float on the cosmic waves out to the edges of space time  to learn… something? No, learning has a keeping thing and everything gets lost. To sense something? Greater than myself. The whole I am a particle of.

Paradise is returning broken pieces re-connecting to all life, all space, all stuff, all being- the source. She.

Electrons dance with me. all is me and me is all.

Perhaps the only thing to fear is that there is no joy out there.

the emptiness is calling me. Better than dead- elemental. As we were before conception when we left eternity and came into human being also known as holy conscious particles with body odor.

I am not born of man and woman I am not child of David and Theresa.

I am not grandchild. Great grandchild. Great great… great…

I am not ape. I am not small mammal that survived cataclysmic extinction event.

I am not cells nucleus dna.

I am just carbon and water and spit lit up like Frankenstein with electricity.

I’ve made no sound as loudly as possible for the prolonged period of my life. I’d prefer the silence.

I’d like to go back where I came from.