A rivulet of nostalgia
snakes around
the ever bright
eyes
shining like a beacon
sinking towards the sea
a rubble of glass
is what you
make me.

Bitter, sugar sweet
Tongues dancing too close to cheeks
Flushed with red red heat

when i bled in the sheets
your scream wounded my ear
like shell shock
in WorldWarI trenches
we forgot our helmets that day
our skin blew to bits
and blanketed the tree branches
hanging limp
like ripped-off doll
hands.

i'm threading my worries and my woes
creating a trail of gray wherever i go.

the snow queen would be frightened of me
because stone splinters ice
and my heart is a hammer

clanging in my metal esophagus
smoke and grime billow through my teeth

make me a being absent of feeling.

Lillies bloomed from her irises
And her fingers sprouted minuscule green shoots
Climbing the earth like how I dreamed of climbing you
And nestling beneath the warm humming of your blood
A passage into a quiet meditation room
Spiritually feeling my arms inside crevices that I have yet to find
Yet to feast eyes.
Flowers bloom from feet, roots cascade into a woven basket where we both might lie

under a pale sun
i bathe in a golden mixture
a thoughtful paragraph
of old hands
speaking
with the wrinkles of lives told backwards.
the restless twitching of mouths
hinders the night's lullaby
and they lie with sleepless eyes
in their beds,
a catacomb of memories best left in the shadows

I've put myself here.
In this mess.
No one's fault.

But my own

I don't wish to hurt you,
You're so kind.
And you have such a nice smile.


Why did it have to be me?
I'm so complicated.
Sad.
Scarred.
Bruised.
How could this be appealing?


Happy people belong with other happy people.
What can I do?
My heart's not in it.
Must I pretend?


I should have apologized right then.
For the way I am.
A bird without a song.
I'll sty trapped in this cage.

**Until the time comes

the quiet blue sky
broke under the weight
of a praying palm
my eyes were a glass
tipped over
water running down
the streets,
an erosion
of what was kept
buried beneath

i wear the scars on my wrist
like a painter glorifies
the acrylic under his nails.
both are quiet masterpieces
that gain
more
appreciation through
time

i am beveled glass
without a setting
ragged edges
and no beginning

your hands
they wrap around my neck
squeezing with delicious want
you want me to submit\
and i choke out
the smiles
because all i wanted was

to be put down

i took a bath in chemicals
making love in dark rooms
while polarized pictures
developed under naked wrists
our bodies
became film strips
projected on grainy screens
scratches
looping in on ourselves

i want you to drive to me
in this midnight hour
with the world shut up
in a dark closet
come to me
so we can
fill this
fragile span
of moments
with kisses
of longing
and
forbidden
nightly
visits

she rode softly softly
on the white sands making love with the crickets in the long
summer grasses with sweet toad songs
love spilled vehemently out of you
a torrent of cupid bows and holiday smiles
i caught your wrists like floating seeds coming to pollinate
the fields with their red glossy lips.
i'll steal a kiss
i'll catch a kiss
from spring wading through the bubbling brooks,
a long gown flowing behind her, her hair water falling beyond
the mist.

my throat is twisted up
jumbled and knotted
like the roots of an old oak.
your words bleed through
my pores
and i can feel them
trickling down my skin
until i am
covered
in
crimson

the forest
is a chorus of mystical *******
an ancient magic
pulsating with
the wisdom of being
deeply rooted.
gray and green and blue
melding into
the only home
i can really ever
go to.

i found your spirit
laying at my feet
upon the ground
it was a tattered sheet
transparent threads
shreds of a spider web
i gathered in my arms
careful as glass
a sad mess
your sorry soul
i found it
i loved it
and i knew it was mine

I am a ghost limb
Fall foilage
Turning into winter's dead heart
An empty gaze
With a bus stop full of people
Silent but speaking
With numb tongues.
And your voice is the only
Thing that's alive

Slipped into the pattern
of a chain-link fence
I'm repeating myself
with metal hands and fists
breaking down this barrier
that comes with the methods
of growing up,
dusting off the child-like
lines on our bodies
replacing them with
studded jewelry and
lipstick stains
Oh how I wish I could
close my veins and
cease the constant
endeavors of numbing
my brain
with toxins
meant to halt the
insane, monotonous path
of parallel lanes.

i cant split apart these organs
i'll keep the pulses
muffled inside.
cut the circulation
to this sensory layer
of existential
skin
and i'll feel with fire
instead of
blood.
body
instead of
mind.
fingers instead
of souls

this is me being
angry
bitter
appalled
and disgusted with
humanity
men give children
guns
before they
learn the alphabet,
they're learning
how to put a bullet
into someone's
head.
They'll learn about the
color red
because their skin will be splattered
with it.
little children
with needles shoved up their arms
a drug for the mind
making the killing no harm
brain wash brain wash
that's all
young minds
are so impressionable
they don't ask why
"why did i **** my mommy
why did i watch my family die?"
so many of us
don't know
we just don't know

i crawled inside a bleeding womb
feeling the walls dying around me
a fever
in my chest.
numbed legs
my pants unzipped
gaping open for the next one
to pull a piece of me
apart

i ate my own heart
so i wouldnt feel
and now i have an appetite
for beating pulses.
no guilt
no remorse.
i'll feed on your organs
until you are a
deflated
and
sad
little boy

Keep your virtues lined along your shelves,
like pretty painted china dolls.
So fragile and pure, but so easily cracked,
with the force of concrete
and dirt.

Your grubby fingernails
cannot veil your thinly coated lies.
A coil of lace
simply won't erase
the disgust you
parade upon your brow.

During the hazy summer days,
I'll reap and sow
the last tears of my love.
And once they're
buried below,
nothing will grow.
Because what you made me feel
was plastic
and plastic seeds
grant no life;
instead
they linger
while time wears on
the darkness enveloping
the hope they never
possessed.
Forgotten,
Along with the decent memories of you.

the room is shrouded in blue
and your beautiful
naked
form
glides over to the window,
a cigarette
between two
fingers.
moonlight
drips from you
in delicate
silver pearls
and the cigarette glows orange
reminding me of nights in the city.
i watch you with pale eyes,
sleek with skin like honey.
i want to crawl inside the glowing
embers of the tobacco
so that this
heat will
flicker and burn
long after
we are
gone.

we're just a tangle of limbs,
skin and teeth
sinking our fangs
in whatever
escape we can get our hands on
******* all the experience
of drug dazed lust
and nights veiled in smoky dust,
car windows broken open,
the glass embedding into
our dreams
a mosaic of the world opening up,
sliding down it's throat
as the wind whispers secrets into our hair
and we flick the ashes of cigarettes
over and over
awkwardly holding them between fingers,
pretending to know how to smoke
professionally
all the innocent pretend to be *****
until one day it's just there
the shirt fits
and you forget
how to skip backwards,
chalk staining knee caps
we're done
quite done.

you hurled my blouse
over my head
and my *******
ballooned out in front
of your lips.
your kisses were small fires
that burned beneath my skin
and my eyes rolled back in my head-
seeing instead with
hands.

darling i'm a lonely heart,
an ice queen ******* down
cigarettes
slitting my wrists to jazz
and watching my soul crumble
like castle walls
thinking about a stranger
whose hands id like to hold

Here's how it goes, the magazines, the tiny jeans,

A continuous circle of hard feelings,


When it's not this, it's that.

Always something nibbling away at my mind.

My skin, it isn't clear today, my hair hangs in a limp mess, my clothes feel too tight,
suffocating my breath. Too pale, too much of anything I'd rather not be.




I'll get out of bed anyways, and face the human I am, but not "supposed" to be.

Red angry agony
accuses
your wrists
with slashes of uncomfortably
raised skin
rolling like roiling roaring
waves
in an ocean so black
so desolate
so misplaced.

i try and talk
and get to know
the person that
i hope you are.

i have those moments where
i think,
this is it,
you're really not as shallow as a sink.

but then you talk about clothes
and expensive things
and how your daddy
gives you money
as often as the
average person breathes.

truly i am sorry,
dear lord knows i tried
but if i hear one more
word about parties
and lip colors
and hair dye
i think i might scream
and suffocate you
in your sleep.

giants sleeping in october
our bodies frayed like scarecrows.
there is a glowing face
amongst the darkness

it was an empty
gray day
footsteps
from a ghost
scaling
the layers of my flesh.
birthed from sadness
drowning inside
a mouth
swollen with
hollow words

Little town, bundled up, like a tightly locked box.
Our coats zipped up too high.
I feel stuffy with the humid air- especially surrounded with all these fixing stares.
Turning into glares.
I used to be fine, the bath tub just a place of comfort, not to self harm.
But you've broken me in more ways than one.
I can feel the walls closing in.
Each place holds the ghost of a memory, my escape knows no end.
Can the light shine to hide my shadows again.
Close the book, I'm at my end.

You look at me, like the last time, with eyes not revealing much.
Another drag of your cigarette, the            s
                                                ­              m
                                                 ­                       o

                                       ­                               k
                                ­                                             e
Curling around your patronizing stare.
With a flick of ash the sky turns to gray.
You whisper goodbye,
but I just wish you would have decided instead,
                             to stay.

under a purple night
the moon a pale freckled face
laughing at me
through frosted
windows

Loneliness is a disease, that stifles and disfigures.
It is the side of the bed, ****** of all warmth.
The motivation behind the blade, with a cold sharp tongue,
that digs into tender sorrow.
It is the constant shadow, an illusion of company.
It is the definite reminder of why you're always feeling this way.

My innocence is lost.
The years I've spent understanding the world
diminish the child-like light
I've held inside.
I used to mourn the loss of life,
I used to cry for my sins,
Now I swim in them.
I emerge,
dripping the blood of the sacrificed lambs,
I run,
savage.
I lust,
I moan for passion,
For corruption.
And it grows
deep inside
my gut,
ripping through the downy duckling feathers.
I was born in this world, and I will die in it.
But I will die me,
Incredibly raw,
Intangible,
me.

it was my birthday and we were
walking at 6 am
in a grocery store parking lot
you bought me flowers
and above our heads
the sun was rising
and the sky lit up
with streaks of pink,
like it was being awakened,
coming alive.
that's how my insides felt,
as your fingers wiggled between mine,
and the flock of birds
ricocheted beyond the purple clouds
as we both looked up
and i was struck again with the thought
that you and i
would share this love forever.

floating aimlessly along a river
headed no where.
to live in such a state
absent of direction
would be
unattainable bliss

there's an empty window sill
in the falling of the misty gray light
in tattered streaks.
how can the sun be made *****/?/
when the purest eyes blink
softly to smile at the ground
we can feel the ache
between the cracks of gravel
the earth straining beneath us,
groaning
howling maybe
with a wish for the
loneliness to be a white washed
school house
filled with brass bells ringing
and echoing laughter from light hearted children
with their rosy cheeks.
i miss my mother's rocking chair
and her arms,
stable branches in the brittle winter.

the moon hung like
a bulb in the sky
the windows were broken in,
gaping holes in the buildings,
hollow eyes
no longer weeping.
the air was gritty
and we stood huddled sharing a
smoke.
a man nearby waved about and screamed
tormented by demons
that nobody could see-
just a frothing mouth
reeking of *****
and i felt sad
thinking of
fragility

skin cells tainted by your
touch of rust
your plague
a gaping wound
bleeding out
within my throat
a gasp
a silence
.
i wake up.
you are gone
and my flesh is pink
clean

we are nothing but bones
constructed into two small
houses
skin made of glass;
so you can see me
and i can see you.
see your chimney with it's glowing fire
i'll watch as the flames spark
alighting the rooms
in white;
only when i'm near
does your heart glow
so intensely
how fragile are we
how fragile

i get this feeling
like when you see a senior citizen eating alone
knowing that they've lost the ones they loved
knowing one day we will too.
the youth that thinks we cannot die
that for some reason life is only
immortal for us.
i'm sure that old man thought the same.
and here he is wrinkled
with empty chairs
for company.

your ****** body hangs
a flower to be plucked
your ****** body
is a door that you can open up