I tripped over a shadow today
and it reminded me
that things don't have to be real
to leave you scratched and bruised
and wishing you had paid more attention
to where you were stepping

I’m often afraid
Of what I can’t always say
Not knowing is sure to make fear
Multiply upon itself until I cannot
Breathe and my heart races as if it
Can run away despite my body’s
Stillness
Frozen like a rabbit hides from
Slathering wolves
But my wolf is not so solid, its sharp
Teeth and ember eyes change into
Something with which I cannot
Reason
Maybe it is nothing I fear
Dark branches stretching out
Into night drenched
Solitude
Headlights my only solace from the
Dizzy roads and inky stars
What are they hiding, those
Branches
Perhaps wolves, perhaps nothing
I prefer the wolves

The crickets and the train
How one sound can take you somewhere
But two sounds takes you fast
The summer air begins to shed its heavy skin
The crickets cry to the cold stars,
Harsh and brilliant
Are they beautiful, or just far away?
The train cries too
But at least the crickets
And the stars have each other
My love sleeps by my side
Deep breaths rise and fall
Another sound, but this one brings
Me back and keeps me from following
That train
Those crickets
Those stars
That sounds wraps me up in its arms
And whispers don’t go
There’s nothing for you there at the
End of summer

She’s a sort of moon person
Pale eyes and paper skin
Translucent
Hair swirling in wisps like clouds
This lunar oddity
She whispers as she writes
She is not kind
A bit cold
A bit distant
But then, so is the moon I suppose

everything is gold like honey
dark as night
a flame that burned out too soon
as red as a rose or
blood
or my own anger
at only thinking in
cliches
let me break free and see
a world where
the sky is as blue as a reflection of the sky in a lake
no,
no that one's too silly
or maybe a place where i can wade through a field
of murmurs
dark as blackberry jam
or see the sky is orange peels and musky pinks the color of cat's paws
drenching the world in soft bedsheets of sleepy brightness
new, something new, please
give me a forest as green as a leatherbound book
with pages made of tree rings and little words
skittering around, and hunting, and sleeping, and playing
with the other little words
I want to see an ocean that holds reflections
the stars live there, and fishes live within their brightness
planets and corals hold secret worlds
and little creatures and galaxies of nonsense and daydreams
and when you look down you are there too
and they don't really pay you any mind, because after all
there is rather a lot already going on
I want my brain to live someplace new
build houses for new ideas
use old ideas as framing and build, and paint, and have a welcome party for its new residents
make a cake that has chocolate and raspberries and some other ingredients that you don't quite remember
give yourself a change of scenery,
you deserve to know that your mind is as endless as the universe that lives in the ocean
if you would only let it breathe

I like my coffee like I like myself
Bitter and full of fake sweetness

Wearing someone else’s coat
Their pictures in the pockets
Makeup on the collar
Maybe it’s too big
Too small
Sometimes other people’s clothes
Just don’t fit right

If a drop of rain falls from
Night-black clouds
You cannot catch it and exclaim
This, this is the piece of you I love
You must stand in that sea of
Droplets
Arms outstretched and
Soaked to the bone, blind and drunk
With sweet dark rain
An inundation of joy and sadness
And everything in between
Only then can you say you not only
Braved the storm
But loved it for its
Every drop

Before the medicine
my pages were blank
only notes
important things
things i wrote down
so that i wouldn't forget
and i wouldn't mess up
i started taking little pills last spring
they make me feel better in lots of ways
no more racing thoughts and heart
no longer afraid of my own shadow
but most of all
they filled my pages with pictures
doodles really
just little things
insignificant
one would think
things i had always been afraid of
fear of failure
of not being perfect
my poor anxious mind
too afraid to let myself see what i was thinking

I feel more clear, as of late
less bogged down by fear and dread
excited for the future?
maybe not
but wildly curious

my love and I decided
over a late-night conversation
built on months of worry and sadness
something rather heavy

we had always wanted to be parents
wanted to have children
compulsory, partly
society expects that of people like us

but here is the problem
you would not invite a friend,
more than a friend
someone you supposedly love more
than anything else in the universe
a love you don't understand
but that overwhelms you
and fills your heart with that mysterious
knowledge that you would absolutely die
to save this little person

you would not invite that person to a house
you know is going to burn down around you
why would you do that
you know that house is going to burn down
you know who is going to do it
you know how this is going to end

why then would you invite them?

I know that I would love my children more than
the universe and all the stars
that is why
in a decision frought with heartbreak
we have decided to save them
from this burning house
to let them be in the peace of nonexistence
safe, forever, from the fate of this world

One thing or another
Boxes and boxes pile up
My brain looks like a college dorm
On moving day
These things live in a suitcase
A book bag
This old cardboard box
That used to hold printer paper
But now it’s home to the notion
That you are bad
Or good
I haven’t decided yet
Things can’t live in more than one box
Right?
When will you learn that I need you to be consistent
Just be all good okay?
Or all bad,
I’m not picky
Choose one so I don’t have to!
I can’t stand the duplicity
Multiplicity
The infinite plicity of you people
I want to love you with my whole heart
I really do
But I also want to run away
Pretend you’re all strangers
Because strangers can be all good or
All bad
With strangers, you leave before things get messy
Before your boxes overflow with junk
That you just can’t get rid of quite yet
I want to love all of them
I don’t love the parts that make me mad
Make me feel like I do when I’ve had too much coffee
Smother me until I feel like I’m wearing a turtleneck
That’s just a little too tight
It just wants to keep me warm but hey
Turtleneck, I need a little space sometimes
Some room to grow
So let me take you off,
And put you in a little box that is labeled
"Things that I need to forgive
For not being perfect"

I love those little elephants
they live in fields of saffron
on my wall
they keep me company when
everyone else is sleeping