adolescence fit him like
hand me down sweaters
with missing buttons
he was always meant
to not fit
into it.
he watched
her graceless fingers
lace up the battered boots
that rose past her calves.
his eyes hugged the curves
her legs like snaking highways
in hot arizona summers
heat lightening
in his heart.
they all knew the sweaters wouldn't fit.
maybe he knew it too.
because the taste of her was
like holy water
and the child he never knew

oil leaks
purple and blue
curving through the cobblestone streets
a loquacious city
punk kids with bruised knuckles
and art made out of broken glass
we walk with an elegant gait
parading the scuffs on our boots
and our cigarette filled lungs
collecting pennies as
the sun dips down
a candy red apple
sweeter when
the day
is
done

lonely on the road
isolated, cracked asphalt
ground zero
Picking apart my skull
so my brain may expand
and breathe;
and fall into the heavy
vortex of my throat
where the universe
lumps itself

Cream colored
roses hang
daintily from hips
a ballet of
pure innocence

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

Soaked in the black sweat of passion
gasping through the cracks
filled
with eerie moonlight;
I have dirt under my nails
from scratching at the walls
that blur my vision;
I cannot see what is coming
but i feel the pressure of
hands upon my back,
slow to rise
slow to find
the answers I long for,
the carefully threaded lies.

the house is quiet
bodies without hearts
but we can imagine the beating
and you're here

and it's still quiet
but a different kind

spider legs
enter under
thin skin

webs of desire
capture the *****
secrets hidden
in crevices
of bare
nakedness

tying knots
in nooses,
stringing our necks
like christmas tree
lights
glowing yellow
on glittering snow.

clockwork
hearts
strike midnight
and the haze
disperses

what is here
is the nuts and
bolts
spewed from
iron lungs
tiring of forgiveness
and valentine
card love

interwoven sunlight
through back streets
over grown ivy curling on stone
growing in grey concrete
someone's footsteps linger
where the millions have frayed;
icy hearts melting
with warm summer rays
a woman with skin mottled and pink
curls in a corner of the busy city scene
said she lost her existence to the devil's drug
and now she's just a shell of what she once was.
decomposing back into earth, into the gravel
the pavement slick with oil, copper filled taste.
and i lounge upon a quilted meadow
laying waste

thanks for calling me a ****.
i feel empowered
by my feminism.
i hope the girls
you bring to bed
can
really appreciate
your way with words
because nothing
makes the
******* drop
quicker

a ****** is quick
a heartbreak is a slow
death
that leaves your blood trailing
upon the walls in every room
and ghosts dance around your eyes
memories that haunt every corner
where our hands touched
and we laughed
a sound like pure crystal
that was lost in the echos
when our hearts
turned cold.

a dark abyss
waits for me.
insects pour from my throat
choking my words.
how could anyone know
the way wounds feel
when they're stretched  
and pulled apart
with ***** of skin
hanging loose.
my scars;
they've faded
into translucent
breezes
that tickle the skin
a sort of itch itch itch
to remember the dark abyss
and purple veins
and when practical thinking
went amiss

you were afraid of being cut open
the view of doctor gloves
reaching inside
parts you didn't
know could feel
like slicing off
a point of a star
watching it dim
and die inside
of a light bulb
flickering.
these things they spit out of you
you lost them one at a time
fingers down your throat
evacuate what you didn't need;
that day i slept in your stomach
i could feel the urgency of static
pulling me through your lungs
your teeth hit me on the way out
you needed me
but you were your own
doll maker
cutting space
into your heart
substituting
wooden pieces
that held no
memory of
the way
my lashes looked
when it rained

my body is water molded
paper
peeling back in curls
revealing bleach white bones
a skeletal structure
hollow
as wind
whistles through

you are all i know of pain
when your absence hit me so bitterly,
it carved out numerous tunnels and caverns
in my anatomy,
   unfamiliar territory to me.
alone,
i had to map out these unexplored caves,
knowing every inch, every rock
of my sadness,
of my beautiful, and dark
emotions that have given me a soul
completed with dimensions,
i am a being with layers;
thanks to your winter chilled departure.

he was the kind of boy you'd
break all the rules for,
but you didn't know he'd break you.

I wish I could float on by through life,
Letting the fingerprints fade.

A balloon slipped loose
from a child's fragile grasp.

No one will cry
when I'm
simply a speck;
popped
into oblivion

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

Beat.
Numb.

Limply still.

Look at what you've done.
A spirit;
broken.

antique grit
he screamed at her in the passenger
seat
slammed the doors
four wheel drive
four fist punches
floral bruises
blooming on skin
color like milk bottles when they're shaken
in white gloved hands,
buttons on wrists.
church pamphlets
printed with jesus love
the man in the jeep screamed
through his lungs
and religion was scheduled on his sundays;
but today wasn't holy
  and abuse looked nice on her oil painted skin

the night takes a turn
and it's no longer your friend-
holding your hair
with your head
in the toilet,
or taking you to see a movie-
the way colors can light up in the dark.
it's stars become hazy
and the hands that cradled you once
so gently,
become talons.
the night will eat you up little girl
and spit you out
into a painting abstract.
you'll be a crude cave drawing on a wall
dried blood so dark and brown
the night will have you either way
and the moon will look on
in melancholy

my eyes are slow to waking
to the dust filled light that swims
around my head in a dizzying dance.
these are the few precious seconds of
morning consciousness
where you are unaware of your body
your mind
and the room with the empty walls.
these seconds are filled with nothing but oxygen
that fills the lungs but does not yet touch the
brain
does not yet signal your logical state to
shake off the silken cobwebs of sleep.
but when those moments melt away like
sugar on your tongue
you are once again
the victim of
antagonizing reality.

street lights laughing
street lights passing
hooking the contents of a baked
beans can
with our fingers
grubby
Scavengers
like vultures
heads bald, pink, and splotched
winter months we clamber
inside pockets
and rest on shoulder shelves
it's when the sun dips down
we yawn through exhaustion
put away old vices
and sleep
just sleep
like weary vagabonds
jumping the night trains
for a span of
uninterrupted shadows

CD's and guitar strings
Kisses in the rain and apologetic coffee stains
Scribblings of heartfelt declarations
and dreamy records spinning in time
to the drumming of our fingers.
Your face illuminated in the street lights,
your words like silver fish scales
skimming through the water,
making ripples in my heart.

i am church
poetry is church
sin is church
art is church
blood is church
lust is church
little girls selling lemonade is church
sundays are church
mondays, tuesdays, wednesdays, thursdays, fridays
saturdays too.
church isn't a place
it isn't anything
but everything
and god sees all

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.

i plead my apologies
to jesus hoping
god will save me
from the
wolves
-the lamb i once was-
aren't i the predator now?
how will i repent
when a train ticket
destined for hell
has my fate stamped
across it?

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.

sugar coated candy eyes
a smile dripping with wine
the pale girl so wan,
waxing like a moon
she held her pretty head
with a dainty gloved hand
and the stars twinkle beneath
her.
i'd like to ride into town,
smoking spices
filling my dreams with
holly wreaths
hoping on pennies
that you will be waiting
at the station
with a little umbrella
arching over
your secret
stare
and i will be glad
that it isn't
raining.

our bedrooms are damp
from the leaks
and the cracks
in the walls
in the pipes
in the roof
in our hearts
in our minds
in our smiles
in our tears.

my room holds your scent
like it's another being,
forming hands and lips
winking at me from under warm bed sheets
it whispers your name
a desire i've always known
but couldn't put words to it.
an unspoken holiness
,your name,
and i find my fingers steepling together
to kneel in prayer,
thank you for leaving
and always coming back
to give your smell
/ a body /
and a mouth.

i'm no good with talking-
that's something that comes out of
my mouth like gnats.
awkward, rather unpleasant.
writing, yes.
i can write a bit.
essays, no
speeches, no
stories, no.
but poetry,
i write that for you.
my poems speak my heart
because it has no voice box.
i think i've always known i'd find you,
always known that these poems floating
inside me
were for you.
i've always known i'd love you.

this is how i say thank you
this is how i let you know
that the pancakes you make taste like gold
and your eyes say that they love me
over and over.

boys come through my life
like pennies facing backwards

you are so much more
so much more
so much
more.
gosh
i have these feelings,
THESE FEELINGS
i've never felt
you put them there,
like you lay blankets over me when i'm sleeping,
how you rub your thumb
along my cheek
sweet, darling, sweet.

you build me up higher than
mountain tops
gosh
i have these feelings
and here's your poem. they're all for you.
because all this love
-that's what i'm feeling-
it's for you too.

peeled me like
a citrus fruit
waiting to ooze
and digest
inside of you

pretend my
naked body
is a flower
you wouldn't
crush

I was walking down an old dirt path.
Quite forgotten and out of the way,
I thought to myself, "I want to fall in love today."
Being naive, I didn't know what that would mean.

I pushed the feathery leaves from my face and ventured upon an acidic lake.
Poisson bubbled up from the surface and the atmosphere went as hot as a furnace.
I felt the heat tearing at my skin, and I thought the blisters would be my end.

Until, suddenly, an icy cold hand pulled me away from that horrific land.
Eyes, as freezing as the fingertips, searched my pale expression, never wavering.
I felt them surround me, but strangely didn't seem to mind.

"Thank you for saving me," I managed a quivering smile.
The purple-blue lips parted in reply,
"Nothing comes without a cost. Pretty birds that sing, are locked away in iron cages because their songs are so tempting. I ask that you remove your heart and place it in my hold for safekeeping."

Nodding my thanks, I sunk my fingers through my chest to pull my offering of love from my body.
His hands shot out too fast and snatched the most vulnerable belonging I own from my grasp.
Startled, I tried to stuff feelings of loss and sorrow down into the soles of my feet.

"Wont you stay?" I dared ask, but before I could hope for a reply, a frozen wind came and left only emptiness in its wake.

timing is everything or is it nothing
where was time when the little girl screamed
her eyes squeezed shut
it dragged on slowly,
as her body scraped against dirt
blood blooming on her skirts
we pray for time
we pray for time to end
we pray for time to begin
let's stop praying to what doesn't exist

her legs hung seductively
out of a window frame
pouring smoke
and they drank it all in
took what she had to give
her painted lips
her white wrists
and the marrow
that slept inside.
empty girl
empty sighs
abandoned ware house
turned
****** scene
because their
desire,
each time
was like a knife sunk through her

hello walls
and emptied hearts
echoing like grand caverns
stalagmites dripping crimson
the bitter taste coating my tongue
when the night grows weary
my mind becomes a frigid place
alaska in months of darkness
the sun far away

I looked upon this boy
a stranger that I'll never know,
and i had an emotion so strong,
it flashed like a star against my vision;
white hot and blinding
my veins searing
every inch
filled with a new passion
I wanted him to see me
to look on me with more than
just eyes
more than the simple sight
of a friendly passerby on the street-
but to really look at me
study every angle of my face,
the curve of my lips
as they unfold like falling petals.
I wanted to be the inspiration of a painting
he'll create one day,
edges all soft and blurred
colors calm and fleeting
like the single moment we had,
knowing everything
and nothing

in still moments
i realize i feel
nothing for you
and my chest falls softly
and my eyelids flutter
into an unparalleled sleep,
where your fingertips
are washed away
by the gentle tears of rain
and i sleep
just sleep

I wish I could throw up my heart right now,
To relieve my mind of its sickness-
to wake up in the mornings
and feel the sun and not speculate on how it feels
colder and colder each day.
And at night I could fall into an automatic sleep,
Instead of writing out all these ******
stories.

i am cracked ribs when it's
raining and the road
is slick
with car oil-
car crashes.
stinking rubble,
the bottle of oxycontin
that rests by your bed,
cold dead feet motionless in the morgue.
i am the graceless stroke of a violin
in unpracticed hands,
the rip rip ripping of a dress
torn off,
the chill in winter breath.
you are the sun that found me
fixable,
not hopeless
or yellow addiction.
you were the cast that healed my broken
bones
piecing back together my
fragmented whole.

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

You hold the universe
inside your eyes
Constellations dancing
around the solar system
hearts beating
pinpricks of light
faster than sound waves
carried quietly
through tunnels of
asteroids
drifting hunks of feelings
we've forgotten
Stranded in space
between the wrinkles of time
This fabric of your love
unfolds in ripples
Showering our heads in meteorite
dust
But how we glimmer
defying gravity
we'll meet again
along the northern lights
when the wind kicks in
our cheeks still sun-kissed
Bodies shattering,
arms and legs
pave the milky way,
Explore with me my love,
ride the tails of comets
into the horizons
that exist
only for us

the kids in this town
like to crawl into the woods
with the scraggly trees
balding earth
snakes that feed
on futures
and they stay there,
hibernate
in this sleepy hollow
until one day their tongues have
slid back into their throats

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.

winter looms on translucent skin
my heart still cries out
for your blue eyes
a whirling
thundering
sea
but i know that once love is lost
and the glass has been cut
hands are better
left drooping
and emptied

She's there

In the back of the room

In a too-big, quirky sweater.

You'll see her,
with her hair falling like rain.
The clouds accumulating on her face

And like the sea,
she wants to reach far,

but always returns
to
the
shore.

the universe splayed its
organs across
the horizon line
specks of morning light
and saturn's rings revolving about
your head,a halo of biblical importance
pretty when i'm high
just like she was when
her flowers blossomed for the first time
and he read the scripture backwards
so he could make love at breakfast
without a sullen jesus
staring down from the rafters