the puckered fields i've plowewd
the seeds of discord i've sewn
inside this dirt.

my unhappiness grows,

crimson ribbons round your leg
delicate trails
quickly blurred
make you feel better yet?

nah, wipe it down
wash away
pale pink feathering reminders
all I need. never regret.

why do i feel dead sometimes?

am I who am I?
bad so that is
sporadically me love to
moments in live I
yet
them to unattached am I
chaos the control
worlds material organize
emotions the clutter
spasm sputter spiral spin they
know ever won't I joy in even
like smells peace what
until not
nostrils living these
into collapse and decay
dirt.

she just kept waiting for him
to come home
throw his key7s in the dish
hang his coat on the hook
ease his body over hers
lay his love on her
again...

sigh
lock the door
lay out tomorrow's clothes
******* thinking of him
roll over alone
again

This morning
I got up
& was not afraid of the monsters in me
I stared down the girl
on the other side of the sink
I thought
for the first time
she was beautiful
we
have some battles yet to fight
but today
we looked at each other
then briefly
stiffly
embraced.
This morning
I listened to the conversations
the birds were having
while I sat there
a visitor not unwelcome
just unnoticed
with my black coffee & brown cigar
like the man
who sits unattended
eating in a restaurant
content to listen
to the conversations from other tables
alone but not lonely.
This morning
I couldn't distinguish who was who
from the bird's voices
the visual noise
of the sun enlightening & uplifting
the faces of
half the leaves on every tree
almost drowning out
what the birds want to tell me
another green
that is
violently striking
to me
in the morning

I want to see your heart
Vulnerable
Naked
On display for me
I want to notice the imperfections
The off color
The almost
I want to know the 'yes' and 'no's about you
I want to be a crutch of yours
To help you through the day
"I only do it when I'm stressed"
"I only do it when I'm drunk"
"Now I'm addicted"
I want to be your cigarette
Your gradual habituation
I want to kiss you with the sun
Even with your morning breath
I want to kiss you with the moon
Even with your whiskey breath
I want to pack your lunch and fold your clothes
I want to fight with you and cry
I want to talk with you and hug
I want to be in your everyday
I long to hear you call
"I'm home, hunny"
But we're 'just friends'.

it's this alternating reality between the
dull, throbbing ache of desolation,
the sharp jolts of pain & the
euphoria, the drive to make, build
Rome in one day.

it's the alternation realities between
the inflation where I laugh until I scream,
kick chairs, throw pets down stairs,
rip every hair from my head,
punch myself to see stars,
scream until I laugh
&
the deflation where I sit
back down, stare into mirrors
to tell myself what
I really think of me,
carve insults into my woodworkings,
pull my knees to my chest,
rock myself into hallucinations
or imaginary safe zones.

if you find your world has stopped revolving,
resist turning about: breathe it in
allow yourself to be held
even if your arms are the only ones
wrapping your torso round
the only lonelier sound than a loon's call is silence
but silence shouts every secret
the only thing more tragic, more beautiful
then felled Rome
is rising tattered & slanted from your knees

Arise
You: sloppy eyed with feathered thighs
regardless of your rocking hips
regardless of your worn brow
regardless of your gnawed lips
regardless of your dripping nows

Arise.

I'm dying everyday
drowning with each
pinched breath I take
sinking below myself
caverns & deep sea canyons
open up
offer themselves
as I'm acquainted with
corals & anemones
new friends of me
accepting this shipwrecked soul
just passing through
before settling
wherever my bottom is
every rock I meet
finds me tumbling
spilling out over
heavy enough
that my wreckage
pulls me deeper
leagues farther underneath
finding contact but not finding an end

You were there, in the parking lot
There is something beautiful
In the moment
When you are screaming at me
Personal, personal words
Flung at me
In the presense of the public
They look at us
And see horribly unstable people
"This is not the place for fighting.
They should know better"
But they don't see you
Looking at me
⫬ saying
"I hate you",
but, rather,
"I have a problem with you.
I want to work this out,
But right now I'm really upset
&Hav;; to yell".

I'm not worthy
of his
total affection adoration enthrallment
it isn't fair for him, truthfully, to have the one
who is scared of all that.
terrified to not be the girl who
belongs to everyone & no one at once
the girl who is writhing
trying to hold tight & strangle
the guilt grief regret shame
but also driven by
anxiety that all my writing
suddenly needs to tell everyone
that I am trying & anxiety
that I am so moved by him, the
affected girl who can't
function
walking into the sunset hand in hand.
I seem to fight every step
as if I'm not sure
I feel safe
being near the ocean that lets roam unchained & wild the
sharks, giant squids, leviathans & my beloved giant leatherback sea turtles
so endangered & dear.
The anxiety of the surprise contract to
dedicate every poem to him
& plan a future
without planning an end, too.

to die & let them win
Anyone who ever held me down
forced me silent & laughed
when I screamed, cried
for my Absolver, my Salvation,
my knight in shining armor,
my mommy, my daddy,
my anybody.
Hello?
& no one listened.
I wanna soothe myself
for good this time
close my eyes & never open them
eternally dream
swim through the pain
paralyzing ethereal light
pierces my vision
until spots rise up
slowly blots out all
blackness overrides
& obliterates;
snuffs the candle out.
They can't hurt me there.

black coffee right when I wake up
two ice cubes to cool it quicker
& a cigarette to drink it with
looking out
over my surroundings
bleary & unfocused
honestly, still cross-eyed
mesmerized by the way the trees move
the bird's disagreements,
their restless indecisive curiosity
& the swiftness of the cloud's divorce.

comfort
safety
everything I needed
& she was holding me.
forehead to forehead I'm crying
& she's so calm so slow so high so careful
not enclosing me
just there
as I'm buckling under the weight
of the pieces I've just
put together.
I'm sitting there
forever with her hand on the nape of my neck,
pixie queen eyes never faltering,
meeting my pleading
alarmed gaze. "It's okay baby girl"
she whispers it
over & over

she reaches up & presses her thumbs down on my airways shaking me & my head keeps smacking the concrete. Both a crack and a thump in my skull. But later it's me: beating her face into the floor breaking her nose her face all apart makes me feel sickeningly alive, mortifies & exhilarates at once. I'm terrified of her, yes, but more so of myself. "It's okay baby girl." Is it? Because night after night sleeping pill after sleeping pill I'm dreaming of ending it all.

Oh, of all the ways I could end.

If there is anything I need from you, it is waking me up with a kiss & a cup of black coffee, offering your arms so I can hide my face when I blush, to think my eccentricities are endearing, to simply hold me when I shudder often, to know I don't always need you to have the right thing to say: I just need you. My kiss is wild abandonment; my mind turns off & all I know is what your lips want from mine & how your body demands & will receive my own. I hope  you won't turn away when you see I'll easily become any color you hint I should be. I'm at a loss that something so moldable could have any handholds to grasp.

hair like singed chestnuts, embers still alight. eyes full of moss & earth. skin as speckled sand. your nose is crooked & you remind me of a bird, flighty yet focused. I have never seen a bird out of touch with the moment; whatever is in front of him is his attention's duty, & you are no exception. if you only knew how I felt to be the duty of your attention.

the way you dug through your handbag, set on your lap... I smiled because it looked like you were peering into wonderland's entrance, contained inside your purse. your navy stilettos made you an auburn giant, tall & wafer thin. I want to take a bite. xo. Sophia.

Scattered thoughts & bricks
of concentrated Otherness pile up
atop the desk. To read is to
escape. To write is to try & form
sentences; collect the puzzle
pieces, holding them each to the light,
sit & consider where they
might fit together.

Happy Sunlight
filters through the glass
& becomes Sad
in the stuffed room.
It stretches out on the floor
& waits until it is finally
time to go to bed.

A painting hangs on the wall
of a woman who is either in pain
or in rapture; there are birds
in her hair (flowing beyond her) &
they hold colored strings gently
tween their beaks: memories of lost
loves, probably, or
something that deep inside,
She will always carry with her.

The aching emptiness
of the room seeps through
the vaguely floral wallpaper
& evaporates into the air,
already heady with it.
I breathe it in, & feel it
reverberate in my lungs, my heart, my
veins, in every pore. my body arcs
in what I suppose is passion.

'I think you know what you need to do'
he says. Shut the **** up.
You don't know what it's like to live
your whole life
walking on ceilings
then have to adjust when the meds
swivel you upright
feet on new floorboards, eyes on old skies.

It's a little backwards, I know
but I'm so ******* ****
& when everything is spinning,
the way my shade of lipstick smoothly glides
under my cupid's bow & the
shimmying twirl of a mascara wand
give me some sense of control.

the prettiest woman in the room is
a little blonde girl
flower in her hair
sports jacket on
quietly listens to music &
entertains herself
by studying all the
loud adults around her
I don't know
what the question
in her eyes is
but
I wish
she would ask
me.


her father
sitting across from her
is a man
who at first glance
exudes boredom
but upon further inspection
the sad way
he holds his mouth
& looks down his nose
at the magazine that keeps him
mildly captivated
give him away;
wanted a beauty salon,
settled for Avon.

baby baby baby baby
slipping in & out of excess
you're more than just a mystery:
you're another possible me.
the weight of our worlds
rests on sunken shoulders
so pour us a shot
smolder.
teddy bears & vermilion sheets
to pull closer after every bad dream
I wish it were you instead
give up your scarred chest to rest my head.
pass back & forth the needle
to stitch our broken hearts;
trade hurt obscurities obscenities
hope we deserve these new starts.
so keep me in mind
when you lose track of signs.
leave a message or two;
I'll still remember you.

I've always been accused of being greedy
& maybe I am
I've just never felt comfortable
without two things on the go
a meal I don't know how to end
seeming tunnel vision on the picturesque doe
the frolicking, seducer little fawn in my peripherals
in case I need something to tide me over

I gotta be better for myself
take more care of me
inside & out
purify my body
alter my high strung mind
change my surroundings
learn how to sleep
make new habits
give myself things to hold onto
intake, educate; always.
I'm going to lift myself
I have a plan
I swear to god I gotta
push through
gotta
do this for me.
success not mine,
I think I'd
collapse again
but not get up this time
lying there
paralyzed & entranced
by the weight of solid reality
that I am a heartbreak's failure. sweet lullabies
as I lie pained but at ease
trains raced, hearts rushed
    but I remained at ease.

Life steals what you want
to give you what you need
but scars you til you're scared
to satisfy your dreams

bud blossom bloom wilt
rinse repeat

I have a habit
of hypnotizing myself
I like to put on my veil
a shroud of alteration
marry myself to the haze
again & again
I baptize everyday before I
light the world on fire
lose myself in the afterglow
live in the confusion

I love the girl who is
the sister of Leila, Ophelia, Astrid
o, Sweet Mother Mary
pray for me, stuck in melancholy
& losing ground
unity in Heaven's Rose
you are euphoria
mostly because I have
arranged my wills
to center & propel
those wills of yours
think for me
show me I can't live without you
can't
do for myself what you do for me
let's swim in the river
where I forget everything for a little while
enrapture me
all day every day all ways

I want to lick your feet clean
just so I know where you've been
just so you know I'm aaaaall yours

as the sun filters through the trees & I whip past them, eyes closed but still seeing; flashing kaleidoscope fractals, alternating milliseconds of red & yellow & blacks & white. swirling oval ripples; am I looking up at or down upon the surface? checkerboards & squiggling bubble worms. between the seizure warnings & REM flickers, there is this unblinking eye, staring me down. my dad thinks I'm a seer. I see this cemetery, a church to the left. rolling fields of blueberries redwhiteblacknyellow a white cross, an arrow on the eastern arm. I stare down at my feet in the water. so I'm above the surface then - wait, those aren't my feet; they're much too slender. a close up: the southern corner of the cemetery. I have never been here before. a giant, passionate waterfall healthy forest surrounding it. My dad thinks I've dropped acid. a close up: the church. I have never been here before. how am I seeing this? swirls. ripples. checker boards. puzzle pieces. blueberry hills. trees trees trees churches cemeteries & those long slender white feet.

where the hell am I?

I wish you believed these cracked bones, these arching tones, my so alones. I wish you saw my broken jaw, my tooth & claw, my obvious flaws. If you would listen to why I stay in bed, & to my cringe when the voices in my head sound, then I would tell you I am nothing, why I'm lost & not found. I would tell you that me, you'll never see, & I only live hypothetically. I am a ghost spirit, chained to this body, this ***** house all the girls frequent; they each claim the same identity & 'I' is a term they each invent. They speak in careful whispers & undo zippers & wonder why no one gives a ****. They thrive in sequinned moonlights, unfought bar fights, & ponder where the day went. When things get rough I float outside my head, sit in the air, see the scene unfold; you think you speak to me, but you can't hurt me when I'm above you, friend to ceiling mould. The girls are masters of identity theft, & 'me'? Ha! There's nothing left. They love to push me into a dream; from there they rampage merrily. I thought I'd **** them, but it seems I'm live ill-vibe & bare-ily.

all I want is help but I resist those who reach
all I need is love but I run from that beast
all I ask is knowledge but hate when you teach
I pretend I'm the best but think I'm the least

do you remember
when you were beautiful, & I a beast?
now you're dutiful. I'm only a barista.
when a message was all we had
when our words were shattered glass
when you were popping codiene
& I was just ghosting.
if I walked past you, would it matter?
if I stopped asking, would it still hurt?

do you wonder
when I'll smoke less cigarettes
or stop hating my silhouette
on the floorboards?
now I do.
when love was a click away
when a drink could forget yesterday
when I ate only cold meat
& I washed my hair on Jesus' feet.
if I keep moving rocks around, will I go forward?
if I buy less, will I get more?

do you dream about
when you'll wake from nightmares in my arms?
now, you're doing the program, doing time
when I'm looking at the clock spin circles around me
when I am cold & bruised & beat
when we're alone or lonely
& I wonder if it's love or mutual obsession.
if I say 'never', will wrong prove me?
if I get better, won't I still bleed?

earthly friction: voice
falters to passionless lack-
luster conviction.

I am alive & just barely;
my throat is closing off
with hard, precious cancer eggs
tucked safely where my tonsils
are supposed to sit.
my fingernails this lovely
shade of purple, a deeply
blueish tint influencing them
almost indigo. They tattle,
silently proclaim my complacent
malnutrition. the moons of my manicure
have sunk backwards, eve
returns to dusk, my favorite
time of day, where the quiet
begins, the candle may be lit,
& the eyes I always feel on me
are at least shadowed from my vision.
the coffee is so black
pulsing through my shrunken veins
that my tears are caffeinated.
even when I don't hold a cigarette,
I see the smoke under my breath.
my hands & feet are always cold,
my muscles tremble & I swoon
when we try to stand strong together.
there is turmoil
constant static
in the fissures of the grey matter.
well? tell me! does it really matter?
my bones ache
my face breaks
oh, this Exist Contemplate.
my government has always
been corrupt; the city walls
are finally wearing, having
borne the onslaught for decade
& decade. oh, the Burn & Blister.

I crawl to my coffin without your permission;
Where are you, my Handsome Benediction?

others help me break
myself. fixing the pieces
is my job alone.

forever coded diaries since I found trust lost on her and him. I hate that the only people willing to listen to me are getting paid for it or beside me in purgatory. don't assume I'm being over-dramatic; I'm not saying my wounds hurt the most, but understand me: deal with half the **** I have & then walk a straight line again.

I am the one who dies a little every time I wake up & realize I'm exactly where I laid myself down. I am the one who breathes corrosion, feeds distortion, bathes in corruption. I straddle fences & hem and haw, biting nails & wraps arms around legs to hold self together. I am the one who cares so much I cannot care. I am the one that uses each breath to fuel my obsession with asphyxiation. I am the borders of the spectrum I see the symmetry in opposites, I pause on polarities. the Yes! Sure. Why Not? I am the moment & I wish that I wouldn't have to live in it. I am the lifter, the sorter & sifter of things my parents over looked or over turned.

anxiety attacks like
volcanic eruptions
buildup unbreakable.
the explosion is
the worst kind of release
it seems like the scariest
part but don't forget
the fallout
the devastation of
any living thing
nearby.

she moves over me
soft kisses
small fingers
lingers
in the crook of my neck
the small of my back
runs her hand
over my piercing
licks and kisses my eyelids
we hold each other
because it isn't supposed to last
we aren't supposed to be here
why am I here
she laughs
I laugh too
then we remember what we're here for
& get back to business
she judges me
because I'm everything
she doesn't want
but I can see her
telling herself to shut up
(she loves it)
she kisses me
instead of saying
what we both know she's thinking
I hate being with her
but I tell myself to shut up
I kiss her
instead of asking her to leave
I should get a rosary
to hang over my bed
to remind myself
who I'm letting down
every time I abandon praying over my bed
& choose to pray over her body instead
He loves me
He loves me
I'm faithful with my fingers crossed

I'm high now and sulking in detached spacey anxiousness. My cigarette hanging limply in fingers. music cramming into my eardrums. staring into coffee too cold. Here I am: tearing down the towers I only just made. New lined bricks explode beside the pressure of the bombs I throw. The pave is still hot and debris will fall and solidify in it. There I was: I can see the shadows of the cities I've left behind, their stirred up ashes so fresh they sometimes cloud my vision. Here I am: standing in my kitchen, scrubbing a frying pan, furious. There I was: a million years ago, on the other side of the frying pan flying across the room. Here I am: screaming I love you and I'm scared. There I was: listening to i hate you and if you leave, i don't want you to come back. Here I am: losing myself in a rhythm of destruction and there I was: born into a cycle where I'm just another link on the chain. Heritage cascades over me god it's painful but oddly relieving. If I truly lived in the moment, I would hear the telephone ring, him begging me to find something I could trust in him and hold onto it. If I truly lived in the moment, I wouldn't be here thinking about you in the aftermath.

let myself just stop halt, just for a second. let myself be myself, surrounded in music & by people I don't know..and some of them that I Do. stop for a moment & let myself just focus on their hands, their lips on me, working mine in the rhythms, those slutty club hypnotics crafted by sound manipulators. wait, Focus. Their soft, demanding lips on mine. not the ones I want but hey. Focus. Those slender fingers reaching up the nape of my neck- my arms give me away with natural goosebumps, my skin hacking up, reflexively, not aggressively, but with fondness & heated chills. those fingers, nails trailing my scalp...****, I wish he could do this - wait. Focus. her lips still demanding mine, but liquor likes to press the 'play' button when you're not looking, leaving you to stop. look at the mess you've made. children have a funny way of breaking all their favorite toys. stumble to the bathroom you half hoped you'd be tasting danger in about an hour ago. can't even be angry enough to flip off the other girl at the sink, too ashamed to look at yourself. the pressures of hating yourself some days unbearable because you get claustrophobic when the door closes with only you & your Savior inside.

"I see your hair is burning
Hills are filled with fire
If they say I never loved you
You know they are a liar"
  -Jim Morrison

I used to be a girl who had very close relationships with eccentric women who talked to themselves & sang to kitty cats, birds, dogs, & who sometimes got cranky with squirrels who climbed into birdhouses. Women who had laughter follow them wherever they went. Who teased me but never made fun of me. Women who were much older than me, came into my life at various times, who moved in & out of it, fluctuating in immediacy but always loving me totally, always keeping in touch, never a hateful or spiteful glance. Women who saw me not as something to deal with, but something to help. I wasn't a chore. They were people who introduced me to things, included me in everything. Women who lent me books. Who played battleship, scrabble, cards, word games, catch, and pranks with me. Who invited me to watch movies, cook supper, pile wood, play in the sandbox or garden, walk on the beach with them. Women who spent time talking to me & doing things with me; both focusing on who I was & who I would be at once. Women who were grams & aunts & adopted family and who were not my mother.

I feel you, syncing yourself with me
I can't help but fall in time with your footsteps
Our heartbeats harmonize as we lie, entanged

I feel you, pulsating, waves on a shore
Relentlessly eroding my hardened heart
Entrancing me; Lulling me into your grasp

I feel
My heart strings
Being pulled by your hand,
Embroidering me
Into the fabric of your being

I listened to your
feelings just so I wouldn't
have to deal with mine

I'm a spill out of cab doors
a spill on your bedsheets
smeared lipstick on shirt collars
the bandaid on bloodied knees
and dried mascara streamed tears.
I'm that sticky shot glass
the bathroom stall stumble
a slutty slipped tongue.
tonight I'm undone.

I'm the blank stare smoker
tad-whipped toker
the take her and poke her
slap her or choke her;
you ask my number and forget my name.

the loud laugher, the screamer.
yet I have nothing to say to you.
keep urging me not to be shy;
you'll never understand how my life
is a movie I sit back to watch.
you're only a red-shirt, only disposable,
only the used ******,
but *** is how I know I'm real.
I pretend to be drunker, dumber, easier
than I am
because I want to be allowed
to close my eyes, to scream, to enjoy this
******* moment.

waiting for the apology that never comes
waiting for the sun to rise in the east
pregnant & surprised each time periods are missed
assume trees hold the sky up
tell the ground to man up when the sky leaves it sodden
yell at the world to "SHUT THE HELL UP" when it thunders, howling in pain
criticize the horse from running from his problems
**** & moan when frogs croak: 'get a job. all you do is laze about the pond'
waves pummel & pound the beach, ask 'what the hell ails you?'
tell the tree to pick itself up when the wind knocks it over
& to put itself back together when the lightning tears it apart
just because he loves you doesn't mean he gives a ****

She sticks like water. She loves like a butterfly.
She slips through my fingers like sand.
She is good for me; just like the cigarettes I'm chain-smoking.
She changes her haircolor like she changes her mind.

I've never loved anyone like I love her.
So why is it so easy for me to let her walk away?
So... so easy... to let my tambourine fall away from my fingers,
After watching her burn my sound-house down?

lying in bed
teddy bear in one hand
& cigarette in the other
maybe my whole life is
this dialogue of me:
on the search for a
Holy Comfort Blanket
and
and
it must be a comedy
like all the kid's shows
where it doesn't matter
if a character dies,
the next episode
is a new story
    same ending.

sweet soothing rhythms
& drip drop words
rain drop grooves
through my mind
a sheen of pink syrup
drips down my rib cage
staining my core &
strengthening me  
makes me feel regular again
I ***** & reject troubles
with a magic that bathes
my body; leaves me gleaming
as a goddess.
otherworldly & yet swimming
close to shore
die to keep myself alive
laugh for every time I cried
drink water straight from the tap
don't crack
don't crack

sweet soothing rhythms
& drip drop words
rain drop grooves
through my mind
a sheen of pink syrup
drips down my rib cage
staining my core &
strengthening me  
makes me feel regular again
I ***** & reject troubles
with a magic that bathes
my body; leaves me gleaming
as a goddess.
otherworldly & yet swimming
close to shore

die to keep myself alive
laugh for every time I cried
drink water straight from the tap
don't crack
don't crack

i am a woman who hasn't gotten over her girlhood strifes. i am alive in conflict & chaos; when storms still i tremble. i struggle with questions of my own importance. if i am your leaning post, why do i feel so alone? i am one ocean with many seas, rivers, harbours & waterfalls - each with their own names. i am not of this realm, yet my father calls me worldly. i struggle with questions of my own identity. if everyone sees me as one solid being, why do i feel so broken? i am a lover of opposites, of balanced scales, of reflections: black & white, girls & boys, sea & sky, everything & nothing, always & never. the sometimes, the somewhat, the earth, transvestites, grey zones: they don't sit well with me. & yet i am spokesperson for the exceptions (i before e, except after c. using drugs to have *** with people is assault, except for ******. i only like to write with black pens, except when I want to use a pencil. i only drink black coffee, except when I crave a double-double. i only **** girls, except when i need a ****). each girl has her own firm resolve, that is contradicted with another's opinions: my whole existence is self-hypocrisy. i struggle with questions of conflicts in my own interest. if i am decided, why do i peer with longing at the other options? i am a planner, an organizer, a sorter: i put my problems in piles. i am erratic, scatterbrained & impulsive. i use my abilities to try to outsmart my destructive tendencies; to try & balance the scales. my flighty adventures often win over my obsessive habits. i struggle with questions of my own intent. if i am scared of commitment, why do i keep promising?

all I dream of is how
he touches me

he touches me
my weakness

my weakness
nape of the neck

nape of the neck
his hand slides up

his hand slides up
God I love it

God I love it
when he plays me so well

when he plays me so well
I bite lips

I bite lips
he said

he said
he loved kissing

he loved kissing
my *******

my *******
that softly gifted into his hands

all I dream of is how
he touches me
my weakness
nape of my neck
his hand slides up
God I love it
when he plays me so well
I bite lips
that he said
he loved kissing
my *******
that softly gifted into his hands