Caffeine.
Shaky fingers attached
to quivering hands, steady themselves
on brick walls, paper, canvas, and skin.
Nicotine.
Reliable digits now detached
from a similar grasp. Without the stirring
lives of the artist, there is no life within.
Traces of muscle memory assist me again.
Feigned skill determined by the past,
and a pen.
Tranquiline.
Reality-defying, I'm aware to where my mind lies.
Without trying, you'll perceive it, and be on your way.
Underlying, a rare mind may use
hues to cry.
But the realist intellect knows
secrets deeper,
the mind of a dreamer,
and where to draw the line.

he wears cowboy boots to bed
and says "yes ma'am" like sweet tea pouring from his sunburnt lips
once we went up to the lake hitched our horses and went skinny dipping and he left his hat on

he removes his hat as a sign of respect
he holds a hand over his heart for the friends he left behind
he taught me to ride like my soul was being set free from that castle walls that were built

he two stepped with my mamma
when the music rang out through the grass
but that didn't make up for the time I was late for dinner because we couldn't pull our eyes from the stars

he shook hands with my father over burgers on the grill
high fived my little brother and called me baby
but that didn't make up for the time that we drove out the canyon and danced our way to the top of a mountain with no reception
we danced and swayed and stayed until the moon called me home

On sunshiny mornings I'll
Perch myself on the edge of
The sink and look past the
Basil and cyclamen
Past the stained glass birds
And rainbow crystals
And I will look at the trees
As I feel the poetry and taste cold pizza.

When it starts to rain I
Will brew myself a blue mug of expensive
Imported tea and sit upon the
Unswept linoleum as I listen to the
Refrigerator rumble behind my head
And the rain echo in sheets on the skylight.

And once in awhile a
Stray drop comes through the window.

If I ever find myself lonely
I'll take the six minutes back to the
Place that never sleeps and
Drape myself on the humming stairs with my other half
To remind myself that
Solitude is a gift.

People change but
Houses stay the same.

There is much to be found
When you stop sitting in chairs
And realize that the place you call
Home is a place to feel safe.

Almost heaven, West Virginia
Printed on mudflaps
That reek of Appalachia
It is almost heaven
Not to have you
Holding me back anymore
It's almost heaven
To forget your face
Your stupid workouts
The 300 ways you found
To never say anything
That pinched drawn unhappy look on your freckled face
I feel grateful
And I'm thankful
To be a human again
I hated the way your
Silences sauntered into a room
Ten minutes before you did
I hated the way stale I love yous
Hung around your head
Buzzing like flies on the dead
I hated the way dreams were something to be laughed at
And subsequently given up on
It's almost heaven to have mine back again
I love the way you dumped me
Through text
Like a little kid
Like Sorry this is what my mom wants
Like Sorry not sorry
I'm not sorry you left me
It is almost heaven where I'm at now
I peed outside twice
In West Virginia
And you weren't there to be embarassed
By an Appalachian woman
Who wants to have almost heaven
Every day for breakfast
And truly-loving-life-in-love-with-a-musician
This is what heaven is
Every day for lunch
And maybe just beer and a song for dinner
I'M SO HAPPY
It's almost heaven not to have you
It's heaven to feel alive again