i am in a world
where he will only do.
no one else could make me love,
could make my body float like petals
in a river.
even when i'm gone,
he still has my heart
and my lungs breathe his name
in the dark.
you see,
at the end of it all
there is no other whom i'd rather
argue with.
it will always be him
for me.

the gardens weep
in the moonlight
because she has gone away.
a pale sliver of a finger
waivers in a pond reflection.
a specter-
  the stars have become
pearl spilled tears
and the roses tremble in dew
because of the absence,
her absence-
felt so wholly.
the world fades quietly
with her white body
under ground
...
although that is where she lay
(she has gone away)

standing on the precipice of this world and the next
never forget who taught you to listen
to the earth when it weeps
you'll need somebody from the old days
boots laced to the top
i wont cry when your figure
is only a smudge to my eyes

in your home
dead moths
line the window sills
destined to a grave of dust
outdoor light gets
caught up in the grains
of rust
so nothing grows there.
your heart has rusted too,
splinters in your blond
hair.
splinters in the world you see.
the world that i have gone from.
it took me so long to be able to say goodbye.
to stop looking for your car to drive by.
now you're coffee dregs,
the stuff i wash down the drain.
i do not think of you when i smile,
i do not wish for your touch when i am
in pain.
no longer am i under your hex.
for this is salem,
and the witches hang.

im a part of that
drug cult
classic
wine and dine
*** on the first date
*** for the first time
evaporated belief
at this point in my life
i see things differently
than through the eyes of my mother
and i don't know how
this should feel.
holding back or holding in
foreign concepts,
liberal party platform stands.
sorry but i didn't vote

sweet daughter
little girl with curling hair
one day she'll hate that hair
and terrorize it
with styling machines.
sweet child holds her mother's hand
looks into motherly eyes
with awe
in a couple of years
she'll look into those eyes
with uncertainty.
soft cheeks, rosy lips
will one day crush a boy's heart.
or her heart should be crushed.

a wound sliced
into your thigh
is an emergency exit
for emotion to trickle
through
because you're filled like
a hot air balloon.
dunk your head back
and take a swig
of the cough syrup
for extra bliss
and then you should feel
okay
about living

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.

rain is a veil
that shrouds me
from the world.
the world that hurts and scorns
and says what you are
but not what you wish.
that you want to be
a warm smile
in the yellowed pages of a dusty book,
or the streaks of sunlight that pierces through
a room of gloom,
painting stripes on the whitewashed walls.
yet the rain cannot drown out the sounds
echoing all around
"outsider outsider"
lonely and scabbed over

can we go back
to that evening
where the sun and the moon
shared the sky
and all around us,
was a haze of pink fuzz
and birds flew overhead
dipping down into the water
dipping down into our veins
our flesh an entanglement
of one
human
body.
the waves,
i remember,
they were lucid
and always changing colors.
blue to green to white froth dusted in sunset.
can we go back to that evening
where the universe
decided to reflect
the appendages in our chests
and the love swirling in our eyes.

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

our skin is washed in the rivers of youth
stained yellow from tea leaves
the subtle scent of mint green accumulates between
nostril and lip
freshly awakened.
your soul,
my soul,
is clean

he's more than just some boy
with black hair
or eyes that peer from behind trees.
i know because
when he sits on my bed
or my couch
or my chair
or my floor
it's like he's always been there.
apart of a drawing or a painting
something permanent
but i didn't noticed until
his physical form
accumulated in my life.

i get sad sometimes
too much
feeling in my
throat
swollen tonsils
with hydrated
emotions
wallowing in
one place
thinking of winter
and days that
act
as night
dawn doesn't
show
wrists
that cannot
cease
blood flow
i was a corpse
once
did you know?
i think
sometimes
my
heart
remembers
death
and its the same
old itch
that
ignites
memories best
forgotten
but
there's the
salt
and here's
my wound.

poetry is my ******* therapy
coffee is my god
cheap ***** numbs the pain
but hey at least i still made
the choice
to go on
living

the sunset is all
candy heart valentines
"hug me"
"i love you"
"be mine?"
saccharine promises
sticky and dissolving
on tiny pink cat tongues
running in a field of daisies
skipping slowly
hair flinging side to side
but nobody's there to catch your embrace
hallmark card ***** and february *******
parties in the bathroom
forget your empty bed
forget forget
you keep the door locked-
cold thoughts.

Kisses in the kitchen
Burning like an oven
Passion pre-heated
appliances beeping
Hold me tightly
until the kettle
steams
and then we may sit,
and enjoy a cup of tea.

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

If bones crack and no ones around to hear it,
does it still hurt as bad?
Or suffering in silence-
does that hold a pain of its own?
I would think so.

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.

when i see your face under the traffic lights
my lungs go numb
my heart a lion's roar.
i want every lock of your
dark dark hair
curled around my pale fingers
and your freckles laughing
my promises
won't die.
not for you,
never for you.

you got high once;
when i was out of town.
i forgive you love.

i know you're sorry,
it's a struggle
of course.
i forgive you love.

dry your eyes
and remember i don't have it in me
to leave your side
i forgive you love.

mistakes are a part of life
you're the sweetest boy
that holds me when i cry
i forgive you love.

hell, i know i'm a pain in the ***
i get angry just at the sight of a cracked glass;
because i don't like things that are inconvenient
and i don't like when you hide your feelings.
i become a dam with some poor fool's
finger shoved into the hole, while i continue
to fill with watery rage, until
flimsy fleshy fingers
stand no chance against
the current that is my fire
and i knock the silly fool
straight off his feet, and the streams rush, unhinged
right, bullseye,
into you.

the night has slipped from the tips of my fingers,
finding solace in bottomless sweaters
sleeves that swallow hands
and mouths that swallow
bourbon brooks
trickling through a loss of consciousness.
i yearn on winter bones for the loss of knowledge;
a slow mind,
and sweaty delirium.
i want to watch my finger nails go purple
from malnutrition, seeping into the cracks of an old house-
to become an eighteenth century ghost
and i'd measure my heart breaks in dust.
when the world falls away;
and it falls away often-
i find solace in thinking that nothing can amount to nothing
and one day you all will be as i am.

a thin willow wisp,
a frayed cardigan
  a story that was once told and lost through years of
the telephone game;
while the rich culture faded with every new tongue

i feel like a bad person
when your eyes turn
into reflections of the sea
and i know that it's because of me.

The night scrapes
with blue feathery
tendrils
coursing like
water and streams of rain.

Your mouth opens
like a fountain
and i throw
in a copper coin;
a wish for our future
to maybe
someday
exist
in the particles of
clouds and anchors
of ships.

you were beveled glass
carved out of sunlight
and you burned into my irises
contracting against the intensity
of your presence.
sometimes it still gets like that.
brief moments where your beauty over powers
and in more ways than one
i'm lost in a temporary blindness.

i just wanted to  pick your bones
white daisies in a field
and weave them together
a halo to float over my head
so wherever i'd go a part of you hung in the air
a soft constant breeze.

and maybe you'll let me.
maybe you'll string your veins like lights to light my journey
when the cobbled streets are black
and your back in rink-a-**** town
and i'm off getting my wings.

you like to breath air into my dreams,
lifting my balloons, and even though  you'll be here in this gray
town you never
made me feel sorry.

sorry that i've got to leave.
and maybe you'll give me your hands too,

so when it's colder than a winter month, i can wrap my fingers in them
and i'll be warm on the inside
too

i am ice
your eyes
flickering
between globes of
unchartered
light
thaw
my
inner
blizzard.
but you do not know.
and i hope one day
you do.

smoke curls
like a mother's soft hand
forming gently against
infant bodies

i see the matchbox girl
dressed in rags
skin transparent
veins so blue
and you're curled
unceremoniously
between heavy linens

vibrations underneath
of the cries of souls buried deep.
i wish i could go to them,
to answer their pleas.
so much is wrong
with what i see
so much bad energy.
i cannot escape, i cannot run.
the hem of my dress is nailed
down tight to wood.
helpless as helpless gets,
i watch as the painted faces
of children melt like
candle wax
after the flame has long been
blown out.

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

we are impossible beings
with meat scrap hearts
rope burned tongues.
life drones on in this weary sort of
sonata
beautifully sad,
a whining violin with empty chords.
bedrooms frighten me
because
its just do this
and then hands are scraping around in my pants.
this type of thing becomes normalcy
and the thunder roars and i can hear your
******* throat screeching
at me from darkened rooms with
broken ceiling fans.

its always
strange
when new places
start to feel like home
and you've got holes in your
stalkings
holes in my lungs
where your words
filtered through me like
black smoke
with an intent to burn
and the ash is still on my tongue.
oh mother can you take away the poision
that consumes the waking hours
and the subconscious ones
cause he hurt me bad
and im a cracked teacup
leaking all over the window sill

i fell apart like egg shells
the whites of my eyes
hard boiled

i found a smile behind the clouds
i wanted to stay there
but i had to come back down

because broken things
cannot fly
and under water
i'm screaming goodbye

so it was like this...
so it was like when you convince yourself
you're in love
you tell yourself you're inlove
he tells you he's in-love
so anything that happens is out-of-love;
his body was a weight on mine
his body was a sunken ship on mine
my body wanted release
but it's okay, because he was in love with me?
his body slipped into mine,
it pushed
and it shoved
but it's okay because we were in love.
my body felt shut off
from the nerves that make up my
senses,
my mind escaped up into the ceiling,
i can picture those ceilings so well,
blank and textured
and the ***** light
leaving brown shadows
on the walls.
i watched the dust motes clumsily waltz
to a silent tune.
i wished i could hear that tune.
his body was a weight on mine
my body was empty
but it was okay
because we were in love.
it was okay because he loved me.
but i didn't feel anything

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

days like these
i feel comatose.
a sleeping beauty
in a coffin.

a death of eternity
..not new
or waking,
a floating enigma
defying                 logistics
      a tiny winter scene
trapped inside a snowglobe

never changing
cold and wet
                          yes wet like her lips
as she strikes a damp match
didn't you know, it won't catch

      warmth is gone from this place
the dark                                      dragging days
snatching
the light
from lidless           eyes.

I give away poems like
I give away my virtues
Little children's laughter
makes my heart grow sick-
I'm reminded of my rusted innocence
When God shielded me
from the evils
of self-inflicted corruption
From dark, shady street corners,
and boys with blue eyes.
From false declarations
and
Empty, numb thighs.

the melancholy music
dwindles inside of my bones
hollowed by the
constant straining of limbs
hoping to feel something
other than this
unfailingly cold metal
kissing my tongue
gleaming cruelty
branding scars into finger tips
im unsure of everything
and most of all
i am a lost
cry for help
a distant plea
fossilizing into a future
of dead uncertainty.

i want to crawl into your bed
while it's still blue outside
and the sun has cold feet
because morning hasn't broken
and your body could curl around mine
like a scarf in the winter

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.

the night was quiet.
cold but sweet
rippled pools in a forest of pine.
i lounged on the couch
as you threaded round' and round' the trees
pinpricks of lights dripping from your arms.
as you carried christmas in your palms
and i watched
silently,
your grace  unfolded
like   a tear stained love letter
"desperate hearts belong together"
and it's true i could never find another angle like you
to perch at the top of my tree
and your eggnog lips move   gently
over my mouth
eyelashes
brushing window panes
like fragile falling
snowflakes

if i could stitch together
all the unanswered phone calls
and the stale nights
spent in a bed with
wide owl eyes,
there would be enough
patch work
to cover the whole continent
in my quilt of
stomach aches
and empty hands

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

You showed me the stars
But didn't promise me
they were mine,
and I thank you for that.

Because false trust
never lasts.

skin stretches into mountain ridges
i am a fetus
wanting to bloom inside of you
to meet your heart
and cup it within my soul
to see your beauty from deep within
and stoke the fire that warms your veins;
with me you'll never
be cold again.