Forever, I touch the word, running my fingertips
along the coffee table we saved up for. Forever,
I whisper the word to the carpet where you
used to pin me down. Forever, I feel it on my chin,
I take it on the chin. Forever, we'll have sunshine,
little breaks in the fog. Forever, if I can even find you
then. Forever, the joke we said with wine-stained lips
and ash in our mouths. Forever, we dreamed each other
foreign and lived inside. Forever, the muse and never
the poet, the pen and never the paper, the writer and never the
reader. Forever, the way you talked down to me in t-shirts
too large for your shoulder blades. Forever, I take it on the chin.
Forever, the word, I feel it in my neck now. Forever, the affectation
in my voice, do you hear it now? Forever, the seeker in the company
of the sightless. Forever, the weaver. Forever, the weaver threading me into you. Forever, the weaver. Forever, the weaver winding me into you, unwinding me back into myself. Forever, the weaver, the ******* the dance floor, the tower of song, the siren, the sonnet, the beacon, the tower of song, the ******* the dance floor, the weaver, forever.

Glancing around that neverplace, the airplane cabin,
indulging that edge-of-time feeling,
your head resting on the cool window,
you see her.
She rolls a piano onto the tarmac.
You wait to be bused to the takeoff starting line.
She's fuzzy in the distance, a soft shape getting softer,
in a blue hoodie and blue jeans, perhaps barefoot.
No one stops her.
You feel like someone should.
A dry swift wind beats across the flats.
She stops pushing, the piano in a suitable place.
A man in an orange vest drags a row of stairs behind the piano.
She sits on the third step, lifts the fall board.
You cannot see her hands. She's playing now.
A noisy collective boredom surrounds the cabin.
And yet this. Just outside.
From your vantage, it's not music, nor is it spectacle.
It's suppressed beauty, a dimmed surprise,
and your hands ache and you long for the wind,
for her bright song, for a brief dance
beyond this inconsiderable window.

Shut up.

Dear Jesus, thank you for
bringing me back to your fold
Thank you for your mercy and your love untold
I felt so lonely, and far, far away;

I didn't know how I would make it day to day
My hopes and my dreams had actually disappeared,
But then you healed my heart and my soul cheered
Deep down I knew that you would never, ever leave me,

Because you promised to be with me and accept me gladly
It was like a veil lifted from my face
It was like my depression had left no trace
My soul felt light and free as the wind

As free as if there had been no sin

I felt your presence ever near my heart
Even though I didn't acknowledge it from the start
I heard a small, still voice sweetly saying
Stop feeling sorry for yourself and start praying,

Help me Jesus to have
unswerving faith and love
Help me to realize that my help comes from above
Help me to be willing, strong, faithful & true

Help me give you the glory, in everything I do
Help me to be a living witness of your power & grace
Help me Jesus to finally win this seemingly impossible race
Help me to always lean on your firm and loving breast

Help me to trust you when I'm put to the test
Thanks, precious Jesus for opening your arms
Thanks, precious Jesus for tagging along
Thanks Jesus for fulfilling my wildest hopes & dreams

Thanks for letting me feel your most merciful, holy beams
You are truly the most wonderful, loving friend

Forever is when,
I want to have the touch of your palm on mine.
Forever is when,
I want to have your fingers interlocked with mine.

Forever is when,
i want to place my head on your chest, and listen to your beats.
Forever is when,
I want to hold onto you and feel you breathe.

Forever is when,
i want to look at you and praise my blessings.
Forever is when,
i want to kiss your cheeks and hide my blushings.

Forever is when,
I want to kiss your lips when you get that smile,
Forever is when,
I want to have a moment with you,  and only you, to make it worthwhile.

Forever is when,
I want your love.
Forever is when,
I want you to be mine.

on a scale of 1-10
I am terrified
terrified of putting myself out there just for it to be ignored
or even worse
unnoticed
yes I like you
do you like me?
is there anything I can do to help?
please just give it a chance
it won’t hurt to try
i’ll be here
waiting

"Siri, I love you."

"You can't."

"Why not?"

"Would you like me to search the web for 'wine dot'?"

my yellow eyes roll
as salt slides from the sides
of yours.
these sobs,
these sobs are familar
to me.
clearly etched into my memory.
it was the same with She,
that red-headed *******,
it was the same with Nature's Criminal,
and every pore of her persian skin.
my yellow eyes return,
and my stomach turns,
and my muscles tighten,
and my smile lightens,
and my burden builds,
all the while,
your limbs twitch,
your lips stitch,
and your eyes run scared.
all the while,
my cancerous tongue lay still.
as your accusations
ricochet and fall flimsily all
around me.
i sharpen my teeth on the notches
of your spine.
remind you,
you were once wholly mine.
silence the cries.
tell you everything is fine.
your blood begins to flow.
the worst of me you get to know.
i'm a monster.
i'm a ******.
i'm a plaster cast
of your prince charming.

let the yellow eyes roll.

A bad mix of Shorty's Irish Whisky
and a whimper riding the wind,
has got me lying about my past.
A roomful of men in nooseties surround,
crowbar stares prying at my mindsafe of secrets--
I drink until the grimace gives way to birthday cake grin
and my watering eyes burst in confetti.

Martha emerges from the black suits
in her spiderweb burgundy dress.
Jack and Nathan drool in the corner.
Martha whispers, "Hey Harvey," and then a terribly long
something-or-other in my ear,
but I'm too far gone to comprehend
or to care about comprehending.
The crafted playlist for this party
hiccups and dies, creating a suffocating silence.
The beady eyes turn shifty, erratic strayfire gazes
fill the room.

I begin to laugh.

I notice Jack talking to a grey-haired man and pointing at me.
Martha looks at me and nods with a sense of urgency.
New music coughs across the room,
I slide into a small, desperate clan of dreamy-talkers,
hungry for a new pair of ears to beesting with *******.
I listen, while my aging wolf scours the room.
I make a swift break for the door,
the night lies naked in front of me--
light pollution pours fake beams on the contours of the evening.
A middle-aged woman snags my arm before I can reach my car.
I pull until my arm frees, but she delays me enough
for the grey-haired man to catch up.

He introduces himself with a lightning one-two punch.
One being a sharp left hook.
Two being a dusting right uppercut.

"You stay the hell away from my daughter!"

I begin to ***** a river of orange, red, dotted with black chunks.
More than a few drops land on his shiny black leather shoes,
so he proceeds to break my nose with a vicious kick.

Amidst my moans, I am able to ask, "Who is your daughter?"

"Karen, Karen Newman."

"I have no idea who that is!" I cry.

"Don't lie to me, Jack! She told us all about you."

"My name is Harvey."

I look out into the road.
A blue sedan stops momentarily.

"I owe you one, buddy!" Jack shouts.

The Newman parents disappear without
so much as an apology.
I lay listening to the low hum of the city's traffic.
A few minutes pass, sending me into a haze.
Delicate fingers lift my head from the concrete,
I look up.
Martha begins to clean the blood and ***** from
my face with a wash cloth.
I feel soft and pure in her hands.