I shall quiet the cries
living in the back of my mind
and halt their attempts to skew and redefine
what it means to feel joy..

Joy? What's all this talk about joy?
What is this polarized dialogue
between what I feel and what I think
and what I think I feel?
                                      
                                      I am life, is that enough?
                                      I am cold, should I be worried?
                                      I am sorry I am sorry I am sorry for what I've put you through. I am sorry for my foolish dwellings where I chose to reside.
Could have burned them down
Could have drowned it out
Instead I chose to ache for you and wait for you
to make me change.

mirror flat shining
so asleep
what sea are you dreaming
of
winter storm thrashing
or monsters of your deep
swimming
or carrying ships to shore
safely
or men drowning
buried at sea
Welcoming swimmers
and are you dreaming
of the time creatures
first crawled out your waves
and found the shores
that keep you where you are

Eye spine a different nine, stolen time
Tombstones compliment our skyline
A coffin slipping itself into its grave
Shallow dirt under the cement
Did she find what she was looking for?
A shadow slips behind the stage
Vacant household in a silent silhouette
Masterpiece purchased for its frame
A Head mounted on a wooden plaque
Taxidermist trophy husband - prideful
Mistaken muse entropic groping
"I want you inside me "
Vored perception of a lustful vivisection - a pause
My keys- the door

High highs,
and low lows.
I wouldn't have it any other way,
I dare say, I have never felt more alive.
Casual Thursday identity crises that are anything but casual,
a relentless battle with self.
Regardless, it's time to saddle up.
Get out of your car,
relinquish the cigarette smoke and anguish,
we've all got **** to do,
and so we abide.
I am biding my time to unbind my euphoria.
A moment so clear and distinct,
where it's 2 am, the coffee house is closing,
and we've still so much to say.
I am well on my way,
despite the massive lack of sleep,
coffee and cigarettes to eat,
and it's better than a five course meal.
Optimism and bliss, for an instant,
that feels perhaps, in perpetuity.
Intermittence of all that was ever felt,
in greater doses,
to feed an addiction
of high highs,
and low lows.

Interchangeability.
affixed to loss, affixed to
     loss of limb, or
             worse.
                                              She has the
                                              wildest hair.
                                      So wild it almost makes
                                            her look tame,
                                                   by
                                comparison. and she talks
                                            of magic,
                     no,
                         she talks magic.
                                      she speaks in smoke rings
                                             and with the light of god nestled
                                                            in her bounteous hair
                   those smoke rings float up to form
       halos
                    cresting her brow

                                           shining inner light out.
                                              she is lost.
or I am lost.
       either or, but not both.
we are interchangeably lost
                        and it is not that we are less lost together,
  simply that we are together,
              and that means
                     no matter
              how
                                                      ­    l
                                                           ­                                                              o
                              s
                               ­                                                     t
       ­  we become,
    we are found.

    I
          am:
Lost in liberation
                    in victory
                    in security
                    in madness
                    in
                      her.

Bodies abolished
Floating souls
Space wind
Spirit bones
Waiting hidden
Beyond blackness
Wherein darkhails
Find Yourself