*** tha **** outta’ hea

There’s no set way to elate
it’s all relative
we know that

(Thanks Einstein)

What makes you happy
now
make it a noun
persons places things

‘Being happy makes me happy’
is an acceptably weak answer
what makes my face glow?
have a reason
hold onto it’s grip

My shoulder blades are on fire
but I can’t focus on that right now

The food will be overdone
guests tired of waiting
nothing is ready yet

But I can’t focus
right now

Shove it down
push it back
remember to forget

Hours. Days. Weeks.

I can’t get the time back
spent on a nintendo DS
talking to no one
lost to myself

Don’t even like playing
but being in another world
where I could control my life
kept me there for months

Laughing into the wind
no one can hear you
away only for a moment
if at your ear
then carried off

I use my inside voice
within my head
the rest is shouting into a void
if you can’t speak
it leads you to think

the inside can be a battle for sound
in and of itself
what rings true
and what needs improvement

Some better left said
requiring a spoken tongue
instead of a broken one

Spending it to make it?
Now that’s money

Consumable and hoardable
folly’s quest yet necessary evil

How much is enough?
Too little?
Too great?

Does anyone deserve it
can you earn it and be happy
or is it all together absurd?

I was adopted
that’s how I ended up here
I used to be in one family
and they lost me to two

I’m positive it was an accident
they probably thought I was in the backseat
we’ll laugh it off when they find me

I found a dead ladybug in the sink
after washing a head of lettuce
the red had faded to peach
and the legs no longer reached for life

~

Standing in the school playground
during a warm fall afternoon
a bright red bug with black spots
lands on my arm

I can feel its little legs trembling
as it shimmies along my forearm
slowly turning my hand over
when it reaches the wrist

~

I hope that ladybug landed
on as many hands as possible
as a harbinger of joy
simply with its presence

On some mornings
mom would ask
if Kyle and I wanted waffles
these were no ordinary syrup catchers
marbled by deep purple
stuffed with blueberries

When I was born
I was born a blueberry
due to the blue pigmentation
resulting from lack of oxygen
because of my mother’s smaller stature
that day a screaming smurf was brought into the world
and I’ve been getting redder ever since

Above the sink in my dad’s home
is a small purple bowl
handmade with a ceramic stem that broke off years ago
on the inside bottom is an engraving
that simply reads
‘Blue Berries’
but no longer carries fruit

This is how I die
blinded by the light
that reflects off the rain
in puddles
in front of the car

I told you I care about you
I meant it
but you don't need another fee
tacked on as tax

It's all tactic gymnastics
attraction and accents
fantastic for habits
hazardous for fact checks

I'm just an actress in all honesty
fond of the backless
blacklist autonomy
as ****** unhappiness

You didn't care that I cared
I'm prepared to rescind it

Since erring on caution
options have flared
out

Blue skies in Arizona
a ruthless sight to behold
akin to cool tides on an icy cold beach

Days of gray were my rays of sunshine
a heat box detox I dreamed of at one time

Now they seem transient
pallid, sad, and haphazard
since they’re a habit in Boston
no longer a reward to wait for

I hope somewhere it’s clear with clouds every now and again

Exchanging or replacing an old automobile
can be an intensely emotional experience for anyone
I still have the license plate screws from the first car my mom sold
although I didn’t care at all when my dad sold his car first
I remember crying at the dealership when they took my mom’s Toyota
I don’t even remember my dad telling us he got a new Ford
backseat on the left, behind the driver, was my designated spot, still is

I kept them in an empty Hubba Bubba OUCH! Gum tin, the screws
sometimes I’d open it up just to hold them
and wonder why I’d cared so much about that car

I don’t always like being naked
even in my own home
but in this heat
it’s either strip or die

There are those with A/C
acting so civilized
as they turn back temperatures
concerned for their sweat

I’m wet with jealousy
but the humility grew on me
moss in a steamy environment
condensation in the same

Now the only difference
is switching two letters

Have I lost my way
been tossed astray
depraved and often caught in shame

I am Phi Kenzie
suspend all your envy
I’m plenty unfriendly and tense up when sensing

The touch of another
to shutters and covers
and run for the river, ride rough with the rudder

Flown under the radar
I hoped it would stay dark
but no, it’s the day and it breaks the equator

I could go on about my fears
they won’t disappear
peerless endearment from people jeering for years

Eerie queries in tears
near and dear to mine own ears
rearing iridescent essence empirically in spirit

Hear it speared into the ether
reverberating meter
ceaselessly tinker on the readers need to reach eureka neater

A road
big and strong
thousands of miles in the distance

Twenty one years
the road’s flattened
from thousands of cars every day

I’ve kept myself in stasis
by preserving with sodium

if it works for meat
it’s perfect for me

1 large jar of whole pickles
gobble them all
salt and pepper to taste
drink brine ‘til full

2 bags of salt and vinegar chips per lb.
consume in one sitting
lick fingers greedily
repeat weekly

3 bowls of green olives
the salty ones
eat ‘til you can sleep
dry dreams in the wake

Bloodless skin
loveless kin
covet hugs from other sins

Streakless ego
signs of Inigo
white knight spine flushed into a sinkhole

I know you can’t hear me
but this has been easier for so many years
I’ve been shut up and down
so it’s kept locked now
not proud to say
I’m afraid of the outside

I keep the key pressed
inside of my breast
left the best empty
in case of a rest

You guessed it
the exit is next on my list
address with precision
set permission limits

slowly reopen to show you the door

Body parts rolling and folding
steamy between the sheets
heat under the covers
seems so hard to breathe
keeping me up ‘til one
with slick skin
and a drenched bed

No it’s not about hot ***
sometimes I get night sweats

Beep

I’m going to go out there

Beep

I mean this is just

Beep

ridiculous

BEEP

I’m not even mad at-

BEEP

whoever broke in, I-

BEEP

just want to sleep

beep beep

They’re surprisingly hard to talk about
The Rob Lowe Memes
they were a moment of wholeness
thrown out by deceit

Sent and received
so many message receipts
about Parks and Recreation
and the West Wing

Do you just want someone to talk to?
Because I do
I like you
and The Rob Lowe Memes

But were they a means to an end?
Pretend friendship for what?
Spendthrift with interest
without a mention of a finish

yet you left and I let you
doing nothing to stop it
I didn’t think you really knew me
trying to speak through
The Rob Lowe Memes.

Playing with
flour, water, and yeast
at the table of a restaurant

Mush
mash
and roll it
while mom talks to a friend

Warm hearts
and
supple hands

One is red
two is green
three blue
and four peach

I bet you didn’t expect that one

Red is tweed
green is nylon
blue wool
and four corduroy

It caught me off guard, too

They’re all Supreme
bought second-hand
most snapback
one is fitted

I wear it the least

Sometimes it’s hot
when not, it’s cold
in the middle of stillness it’s warm
or blew right through, cucumber cool

I’m so tired
the lights have since been dimmed
eyes closing
night within the lids

What’s cold will sweat
and frozen melt
don’t open yet
hold hope and breath

woke up
flick a light switch
nothing
surprising

Check with electricity
they’ll let us know
expected time finishing
about seven hours ago

I’ve been smoking almost every day
for the last few years

I know it’s no Vik, Perc, Morph, or Xan
and it’s backwards to be used as chloraseptic
but I never needed sweeter substances
and it works a **** ton better than advil

But I’ve used it instead of friends
whether that’s good or bad depends
if I’m on the steep end of dependance
or just really spent  and tenuous

Acquittal is wishful
I’m wilfully guilty

But I’m unsure of what
and how not be

I feel a calm
in your hold
a peace within reach

I’m arms length away
defeated by feet
a screen display between

Your fingers seem to
push me outside
through keystrokes

Palm pressing
knuckle dusting
dancing digits

I’m too tired
besides I’m not
that
*****

I did it yesterday
which counts for something
and I’ll do it tomorrow
which doesn’t count at all

But today
it seems like work
and what’s worth
that

I was clean enough in the morning
sheets only a week old
plus this would be me being green
no need to waste the H2O





Day two without showering
I definitely need it at this point
pizza on the plate last night
worn on the face this morning

I could say I’m doing it
for the poem now
but it really just seems
too nice

Just get up and do it
is not really a reason
it appeals to some part of me
but I'm hard of hearing it out loud

How long could I go
before conceding
to drowned out drops
and softened locks




----------------------

rain on skin
open pores and warmed sores
robed within steam
I think the soap is unclean

At first I slept on the second section
when pulled out from beneath the rest
and left like an exhumed tomb

But soon consumed
by a womb within a room
like a capsule hotel
with chili string lights

Padded plenty with blankets
pillows
and lack of headspace

A bread break with neck aches

No warning
maybe some
didn't check

Formed over Dorchester
Yesteryore from shore stretches
Ore of tomorrow quite heavy
Tore open today to lessen the load

I’m getting carried away again,
or am I letting myself?

The river runs deep and reaps what leeches sow
blood in the mud but the mood is on buds
beaches of cheap seats to a preaching of Mother’s own
muting the boots of cubic shooting suits

The currents pull is incredibly strong;
but I might just be pushing too hard.

Blessed by a crest that’d test a jest-besting guest
watch ‘em swamped n’ stomped by a real wallop of a wave
a new craze of cadence encased in layers of nets
left bereft guessing at the message in a maze

It’s draining me of strength:
and filling me with calm

A new time as old as one that few knew
but it cues a new attitude: a shoe in for blues
refuses to stew on intrusions of youth
infusing a juice of consumable roots

i-come-from-a-cage-
small-and-it-thinks-
it’s-really-bright-there­,
makes-it-quite-hard-to-shrink.

With the instincts of  mime,
left breathless every time
i cried for escape.

-Quaver-

Iwasshamedanddetested,
IconfessIconsent­ed
byforceof a friendship
mostthoughtasoffensive.

But fiction begets
‘Til diction forgets,
Best left alone.

-Crotchet-

Grown up and free
But still trying to be
The rage I engaged with
That made ‘you’ a ‘me’.

Born on the page
Sworn to a sage
Age old as beauty.

~Minim~

Feudal -- in -- flight
create -- your -- own -- kite --
to -- strive -- for -- a -- night --
of -- sleep -- without -- fright!

Tighten your chest
There’s a fight in your breast
Maybe might, just find,

~Semibreve~

Bag #1:

I am afraid
Of-POW-
A lot of things
But-POW-
More than anything
I-POW-
Am afraid of
This
Punching Bag.

(ding ding)

Hanging itself by its own chain
Harangued and mangled by big bangs
Strangled by change.

How does it function?

Bag #2:

It hardly has a heart
A dangling participle in the grammatical arts
Two words worth of work.

How does it feel?

(ding ding)

It’s comfortingBANG
This
Fear of recoilBANG
Because
The softer I hitBANG
It
The softer itBANG
Hits
Back.

It’s 2:00 a.m.
and I’m still not the person I want to be.

Confusedly used and choosing to cycle
a doozy of a beut be abusing the noodle
a noose for the loose lies and snoozed eye libel
chewing glue ‘til you blew new bubbles in trouble

I taunt me,
like a ripcord to a jumper.

Am I toiling or roiling? Or, do I even need to be foiled?
It leads me to believe I’m receiving the peace
by impeaching the keenness of leaderless feet
indeed defeating the most royal of boyles

Safety always seconds away.
But never close enough to be chosen.

Bite-sized incisors to rise from within
riptides to ride side-saddle or be straddled with a grin
paddle again, battle a jinn: the sin-bin win-win for adolescent kids
the spirit can hear it, dinned in tinnitus

There’s something, special
about the warmth.

Still.

That’s the difference.

And constant.
As a result of the stillness.

Sitting in bed
as my torso is half-warmed through the window
and my legs are half-frozen
from the lack thereof.

Not fully formed for
the frost mayhaps forgot, but
the ember forever remembers.

Pepperoni pizza with
red pepper flakes
and white sauce on my thighs

I keep eating it
kinda cannibalized

But I’m greedy
for a greasy meat trio
calves knees and higher

Waking up to go to work.
Another day another dollar.
I don’t actually like my job but
you need to make money somehow, I guess.

Another day another dollar
I wonder if drug dealers like their jobs
you need to make money somehow, I guess.
I bet clowns hate their jobs.
        
I wonder if drug dealers like their jobs
it’s got to be hard knowing how you affect someone
I bet clowns hate their jobs.
Because they terrify everyone.

It’s got to be hard knowing how you affect someone
that’s why I hate my job
because I terrify everyone.
I am a clown.

Asleep within a crevice
located between two rocks and a stone
if you drove deep enough to where nobody goes
there’s a hole with a whole boatload
of varying souls.

To the rods and cones they are nothing
as far as the eye can see,
to be seen is to be empty
like a large tank with sand, water, and coral
but missing a fish for which to swim in.

The peace it brings releases ease
and steeps in sleep awful disease.
It’s my steeple for people
who fear in unequals
and read into receipts to steer clear of evil.

The everything that permeates this place
is inflated solely by negative space
like a race that integrates grace
as a pace to be chased
erasing traces of hatred by opting faceless to waste.

I am sure that I am the ‘me’ and you are but ‘you’.
Sure, I am the ‘you’ that I am, but are you me?
I am me. But you are sure, that I am you.
Am I me? I am sure, but ‘you’ are you,
are ‘you’ but me? I am sure,
But, you are sure I am.
Sure, you are, but,
are you, sure?
Are ‘you’,
You?

My feet of sheetrock
knees and bones
stick and stone

Thighs of mica
calf of plaster
flint skin

I chuckle gleefully in buns of steel
and fiercely beat a sediment chest
with the face of a mesa and obsidian ribs
I see through tides of frozen lids

That brand
spanking
new
refrigerator,
didn’t matter at all

The home it was housed in however
was a palace to bask in

Stand it upright
hop from the bed

Crawl in aloft
put a soft blue blanket on top
sit back, watch as it captures all your thoughts