perhaps unintentionally
he left a blue service pen
and a tube of chapstick
hidden in the inner pockets
of the coat he gave to me
and all I could do was cry
over lip balm and the
receipt from that teriyaki
place in December, on the
way home, I drove under
25, a heavy heart but two
feet MIA, and I wondered
over and over, over and
over, would anybody, will
anybody love me as much
as he did?

Men who look like ferris wheels
every color representing different aspects of their personality

The first three words don't have to be beautiful
they just have to make sense
like connecting dots on paper

men who love with their fists
and hate with their mouths
who once were boys taking things apart
like remote controls their own fathers used to beat     Obedience into their small bodies.  Left them with a fury tattooed across their hearts
Just to give them the challenge of putting themselves back together

They buy their wive's flowers after
a four day bruise isn't so glaringly purple anymore
not so accusing-
kiss her broken ribs
and tell their children midnight stories

children trained as mood detectors
human robots
know when to shutup
speak when you are spoken to*

Men who speak like cutting boards
Every slice of the knives in their toungues leave
hollow aching missing parts
just to teach their children that not all
things can be put together once taken apart

whose daughter glues together the parts of old telephones
to spite the missing pieces
so every welt he beats into her bones
she sings herself unbroken
until she stands robust and imperfect
there are holes in her armour
but she holds it together

with her fathers fists.

Because we both know the sound of gunfire
Except I, didn’t grow up in a war zone
It was a different kind from yours
Our bullets were words
Sounds of breaking glass
And the shards of which made it into my cheerios the next day
Chewed them anyway to spite
The sound that
Breaking makes

You,
you know the sound of falling bodies too readily
  you can mimic them in your footsteps
The smell of rotting corpses
What kind of scars shrapnel really leaves

What the color of blood really looks like
I see that shade of red every time you speak
  The way you keep it hidden in those paintings
In the drawer that I sneak into when you sleep
Know too well what evil looks like

I can find a place for all the words buried in my chest
inside your bullet wounds easily

If I were not a coward

Staring into the dark irises of men in uniforms dirtier than their conscience,
Find it easier to look into a barrel of a gun
Only one of them holds salvation
  
No, you are not afraid of guns
Nor the sound that breaking makes


But I still remove the safety pin
Just in case

Tensions build,

Issues turn to tissues,

and you fold into your fears.

The calls turns to cries,

you were so happy

The downward scrawl of your note,

paralleling the downward spiral of

your life.

so full of potential

In physics class we learned to calculate the force of tension for a rope weighed down by a mass.

I got a 96% and a full scholarship to our dream school.

Working towards my PhD.

My thesis you ask?

"Predicting the force of tension for a rope weighed down by a mass."

But sadly

you just

can't



stop





gravity.

I can't take this city much longer,
It's wrong here; I feel it watching and
See it in your misty eyes when
You lie and say it's nothing,
You're great.


There's a haunting, a menace.
Something we've disturbed or offended
Is taking an extended vengeance,
Trapping us in a poetic wilderness
Lacking invention or vision. Days
pass like weeks and I make ropes out
of bedsheets, marking runaway routes
on maps before they even halfway
Reach the golden delicious dead grass.

You looked at me with interest
something new
you are old
wiser art
wandering soul
teach me
I can be your school girl
I know it’s what you want
(secrets shared at 5 am)

You looked at me as if I was something fascinating
silly interest
writing poetry
smoking your cigarettes
inhaling the darkness
of our combined souls
and my purple neck

Quizzically
as if I were some challenge
how to please me
how to make your mark
please make your mark
on my body
but be careful of
my soul

Deeply disturbed
longing
we are alike
too much pain behind those
light brown eyes
and you look at me and joke about love
when I worry about commitment.

You looked at me with interest
and I wonder
how long I can keep up
this ruse.

Happiness forced down her throat
With just a little bit of water
Cosmic Love beckoned her eardrums
To a sandy beach in Guanaja
But not really
Waves of relaxation
As she swayed back and forth
With the wind she imagined
Blowing through her damaged hair
Lights
Lights
Lights
Her body was a serpent
Slithering like the music in her ears
Soul on fire
Eyes like the earth
She painted chaos
With just her fingertips
Alone in the dark
High as a cathedral ceiling
Wandering home
To thoughts of his lips
Butterflies
And ladybugs and fireflies
Smoke
Escaped cracked lips
Happy when she’s high
Happy when her mind
Wanders home
But for now
Levitating
Without her magician
By her side
Alone
Dazed
But happy
Home in just the blink
Of a dilated eye
The dark was all too familiar
And the calls came farther and farther apart
.
But just like that
She was home again
In the blink of a dilated eye