I can’t think of anything beautiful,
That I haven’t already seen before.
Remembering feels like a finger dipping
Into a puddle at the back of my head
Our memories are still water
Cold, muddied, stepped in
They fill the dimples in the asphalt
Of my mind
If remembering is a water sport
Then I am an old fisherman
Trudging my boots from bay to bay
Fishing line gripped in pruned hand
Looking through the small pools
Finding goldfish in a city of pavement
There are cats in all my dreams,
And I don't know why
Cause I don’t dream of tuna
Or mice or flies
They sit on windows,
Waltz through halls
Stare from the ground when I fly
Nudge my knees when I’m naked at the ball
Watch as I drown in honey
Paw at the bugs crawling up my arms
Sit on my lap as the plane goes down
Chirp along to the fire alarms
Do cats run out of dreams when they sleep?
And so wander into other people’s?
Is that why, when I wake up,
My cat always kisses my temples
it’s 2pm PST
my PTSD is eating me
ring finger on control key
my poor and lonely body
I wish my sad was cool
I wish my sad was a day drinker
Beautiful, dried tears crumbling off her cheek
Misty skinned at some glorious dark hour of the morning.
I wish my sad was heartbreaking
Others staring into a globe of poorly hidden injuries
Looking over my bare shoulders to see the balding on my nape.
Instead my sad is a creaking house at night
An unseen **** growing under the boardwalk
I turn my sadness over in my mind
Like I fold my clean washing
I hope one day my sad means more to me.
This poem is about feeling like your emotions are not valid or significant.
The strums of his guitar
fall onto his lap
Trickle down my lobes
a steady dripping tap
When can I be alone?
When am I really by myself?
Even the term 'by myself' implies that you are 'by' something,
Like the self is something external to you.
Someone you can sit next to.
I want to be truly alone, without myself.
I want the wind to brush past unfollowed by thought or recognition.
I want no one to know where I am, even me.
I need to be without myself,
Far away from myself.
I'm just so relentlessly 'there'.
This poem is about the true meaning of being alone, and the relentlessness of existing in a context.