I woke up at 3AM,
"Old time Rock n Roll"
Playing loud and clear.
Your face glowed upon the screen
That smile devoid of fear...
Before we knew,
Before you moved and this,
Us,
Became so strained.
Before you left me alone,
And after-
After you told me,
You loved me...
After I replied the same.
Three hours ahead,
You called with no shame,
No care whatsoever but,
Only because I asked.
You called to say,
Good morning.
And I answered,
Goodnight.

I'm falling,
Back into this abyss.
You are my ladder,
My hold,
I've climbed so far,
But my grip
Is weakening.
I'm falling,
Returning to the place
I'd been before.
God help me,
But wait
There is no God.
I'm alone,
And I'm falling.
Rock bottom,
I've hit hard.
My skin splits,
And blood seeps through.
Wrists.
Thighs.
I'd avert your eyes,
I'm carving out my goodbyes.

My eyes are gray,
My skin is white,
My wrists leak red.
The color's draining fast,
From me to you,
I don't paint the town,
Instead I paint you.
Blue becomes purple,
Green turns yellow.
I've got my pallete,
The colors of my wind.
Now I'm soaring,
Flying above,
As you call out from below.
Yelling,
"It wasn't your time to go."

She had skylights installed for Him
who said let there be light, which burns.
Eczema, she assures me,
it is hereditary, only temporary.
Soft-skinned, she smiles

and cleanses the house with sage.
My airways are scorching,
and my nose starts to drip red wine
but allergies are commonplace.
I must have gotten bad genes.

She lines the doorways
with remnants of the Himalayas.
Stronger than sea salt, it’ll help
if you just stay in your room.
I ignore the urge to shower,

rinse the blood off my lips.
She prays with a hand hovering above
my blackened skin, she gives me
olive oil, it helps with migraines.
If it hurts, it’s working.

She tells me it’s time to fast—
Ash Wednesday’s moved to October.
My body pangs and tremors,
bruised as the bitten fruit in my hand.
I’ve never fasted well.

She tosses me a burlap shift
and my skin splits at it’s touch, her
explanation lacks this time. But,
I can have my clothes back soon—
After the priest is done here tomorrow.


Mathew 12:43-45

My screams are silent,
My thoughts too loud.
I'm lost but can't make a sound.
This.
This is what society has done.
Anxiety holds us back,
Depression rids us of all hope.
The self-conscious hear your whispers as screams,
And suicide is on everyone's to-do list.
This.
This is what society has done.
We let our fear control us,
Shape us,
Become us.
This.
This is what society has done.
It has destroyed us.