Make the static go
away,
the dead-dog depression;
the fleas tip-toeing across
my brain.
Hate locks the
door to the heart,
and puts the
soul in a cage.
The rage consumes,
like a West Coast fire.

Make the static go
away,
the electric anxiety;
the butterflies swimming in
my blood.
Love is a fantasy,
a fairy tale for children.
Devotion
imprisons
the mind and
subdues the heart.

Give me sweet
apathy, beautiful
sedation, let me
float in bliss;
not tethered by emotion.
Let me get lost, deep
in the core of the orchid,
and sail aimless,
in the
vast chasm
of the sea.
Give me radical
lethargy.

The wet dawn inks are doing their blue dissolve.
On their blotter of fog the trees
Seem a botanical drawing --
Memories growing, ring on ring,
A series of weddings.

Knowing neither abortions nor bitchery,
Truer than women,
They seed so effortlessly!
Tasting the winds, that are footless,
Waist-deep in history --

Full of wings, otherworldliness.
In this, they are Ledas.
O mother of leaves and sweetness
Who are these pietàs?
The shadows of ringdoves chanting, but chasing nothing.

dead in the night
all alone
dead inside

eyes wide open
glued to the ceiling
gone all mental healing

all the overthinking
praying for redemption
followed by slow blinking
for shame, i'm left with feelings of abnegation.

What a mess
everywhere you look
clutter
messy
not the way it should

you feel like a mess
like the same piles
all over all around

you clean one spot and
here comes the next heap
always making you feel
buried and sort of weak

when will it all look neat

And she felt like shattered glass
Glistening in the sun sparkling so bright almost blinding
To sharp to hold
So utterly broken beyond repair
Like a fine dust almost like she was not even there