When I reach h o m e
I will shower
To wash away my s i n s
I will wash away the g r i m
I will wash away my t r i g g e r s
My temporary s a v a g e n e s s

As I walk out and wrap myself in a towel
A softsoftsoft luxury I haven't had in so long
I will b r e a t h e

In . Out

Inhale . Exhale

My shoulders will become l i g h t e r
My walk s u r e r
My hands c l e a n e r

*I will become civilized again.

Her footsteps were as light as could be
as she ran across the void,
glowing in the cloudless night
as far as the eye could see.
She stopped slowly, eyes wide with realization,
She could be free.

So, she stood, head held high;
Shoulders stiff, holding the weight of the sky,
as she faced her labyrinth of pain.
Of lies and suffering.
Of utter agony.

She let not one tear fall
as she walked on,
determined to flee from the place
she had once called her safe haven.

They never did see her again.
She disappeared without a trace.
Lost inside her own mind, they said.

Oh well,
She was one of many they had to pull the plug on.

She wouldn’t notice it anyway.

They never did.

At seven I heard the story of Peter Pan;

Growing up wasn't part of his plan.

I wish he'd fly through my window sill,

When the stars are bright and the lakes are still.

I would ask him to take me to Neverland,

Where growing up has always been banned,

And never planned.

I'd never have to hear my parents fight,

Everything would finally be alright.

He'd take me through the sky in one big leap,

Over rivers and through mountains steep.

Second star to the right.

Straight on till morning; through the night.

To Neverland.


I'd meet the infamous Tinkerbell,

I knew we'd get on well.

I’d hear her jibber-jabber,

Among the laughter.

I could see Mermaid Lagoon,

As we sink Captain Hook's platoon.

I can join the lost boys; form a family.

Away from the land of the ******; my ruthless reality.

Meet the brave Tiger-Lily,

We could be perfectly silly.

And meet the crocodile who tried to **** time, eating a clock.

Tick tock, tick tock.

I may be able to find a treasure trove.

Maybe I can make a home in a cozy cove.

Peter and I would be as thick as thieves,

I’d make him a crown of leaves.

We will live forever.

To age, we will never surrender.

To live will be an awfully big adventure.

Too far from Peter, I'd never venture.

All you need is faith, trust and pixie dust,

Or you might just combust.


You just have to believe

and you will never have to grieve

and no one would ever leave.

I'd never have to be strong.

I'd never have to care for long.

So let us begin the journey.

To Neverland.

My timeless eternity.

My fantasy.

My delightful daydream.

My bittersweet destiny.

My dreams of Neverland have yet to cease.

And I am already in my late teens.

What happens when the certainties
are ripped from our hands,
and we stand,
clutching remnants, mere scraps,
winding them around our fingers?

As if to make permanent
that which was fleeting,
in spite of the prayers we uttered,
the sacrifices made, in hopes of
some gods propitiated--
so we thought.

The universe tilts,
all certainties end,
and we find ourselves in space,
clutching our remnants,
unsure of what agonies even
a single step, a toe forward,
can mean
when there was all meaning and now
none?

They say that
nature abhors a vacuum,
stillness not in our nature.
Restless, angry, grieving **** sapiens,
drifting across some landscape or other--
does it matter?--
when all around are signposts
back to what we lost?

Plod, plod, plod.
One foot in front of the other,
until we reach another place,
other scraps blowing against our feet;
we pick them up;
weave something else
weave ourselves
back into the fabric of
a place, a space,
our own selves

When the earth is quiet

And the children stop laughing

I swear I can hear God breathing.

And it seems to me that He

Is struggling for breath

Right now, I want to
headbutt you in the wiener,
smile, and walk away.

Honey moon
Wild free nectar racing through
Late July veins like rain
You are that razor edge
Awareness of the separation
Between corporeal and physical
Melt through, right on down
To the event horizon
Twisted molecules braiding
Memory
This is alive
This is
This is you
This is me
This is now

*let's not waste it