charged with ****** in the first degree
its voluntary manslaughter every day
from the moment he awakens
until he draws out his nightly eulogy
from the well of his dreams
that tragic transcendentalist
just got led astray
from the red ribbon path I laid for him
when he decided
(but the Devil made him do it)
to take that scissor-edged blade
and cut his way free
it's worthy of hearing
but the jury won't listen
so he'll just **** again
until he gets the conviction he wants
charged with ****** in the first degree
he's only the shell of who he used to be
when he tears off the wings
from the Hope fluttering inside him
at night where even Sun can't see

I remember how he sounded
while laughing loudly, lips curled, cat-like,
at a joke inside of him that no one knew
how to hear
and he smelled free
and he looked like spring wind
and he felt like a powerful gladness
that surged into all his surroundings

I remember how he sounded
heart beating tired rhythms, breathing in,
breathing out in a calm that no one knew
how to hear
and he smelled safe
and he looked like the night sky
and he felt like the soft thump
echoing through his chest into my almost sleeping ears

I remember how he sounded
eyes burning with salt but invisibly,
like a dark dawn's cries for sunlight that no one knew
how to hear
and he smelled like the paint from his smile
and he looked like a blind man speaking of color
and he felt like someone I still knew well
but I wasn't quite sure who

she colored space-time
into her hair
using only a paintbrush and patience
strand by strand she formed it:
the glistening planets and stars that are
of her own mind
neurons shooting like rockets
envisioning the galaxies that, built from her hands,
exploded from nothing into everything,
tangible but free, whispering red gold light

she wrote out the oceans
using her hands
lakes rivers and streams, and the lands along the edges
word by word she poured it:
the life of each puddle turned into clay creatures
that breathed reality
existing like trees on the vast new savannas
living freedom that, carved from her fingertips,
developed happiness and sorrow,
careful but real, eating their new knowledge

she gave birth to gods
from her parted lips
speaking out deities and auras
making the small assertion:
that life came from her and all things by her
but the life she loves had long since forgotten
the green of her eyes
and the red rock of her skin,
her writings and whispers
floating throughout the summer smog
so she roared in the thunder and the rushing waves
for her children and worlds to listen
but they could no longer hear, and she was left
lost and awaiting, wrapped
in her own space-time hair

Si le sable tombait de sous mes pieds
comme j'etais courait vers tes bras,
je voudrais nage à travers la vaste mer
vagues me tirant vers le bas en l'obscurité.
j'etais dehors de toi
et pour tu, je chanterais
jusqu'à ce que ma gorge ne plus pourrait parler
et ma voix deviendrait le vent lamentations.

can someone explain to me
how it is that you can say I am
not real
not really
that I still feel the stings of hurt when she leaves me
or the knife twisting in further as he betrays me

can someone explain to me
how it is that you can think I am
so broken
for breaking it off
when I just need time to think to myself
without this constant caterwalling of i love you

i love you
i love
i
i
i

can someone explain to me
how all that is left is i
resounding
astounding
in the love that's grown empty and
puffed up with promises of You

the ten dollar bill is folded over on itself
she cannot see the zero, only the one before it
as it sits there undisturbed beside the empty bottles
one beer, one water
one prescription lotion
cap still lying open as the
comfort inside hardens into dust
and the room is full of nothing at all
but the empty and the misinterpreted
as she lay there staring in the still silence of life
no noise, no light
no sign of motion
in the entire house but the
gentle tap of her fractured fingers against her leg

you will never know how bright you are
because in the darkness of space all other objects are illuminated
but they would remain in darkness
were you not a star

something tells me you don't see my porcupine quills
for what they really are
because despite what you've been told
by those books you read at midnight
to help you erase insecurity
my kindness doesn't make me cherry-filled
my defense doesn't make me secret
your "tragic past" imposed upon me is not my motive
I am not something dug-up, mysterious and ancient
but your chart says that I am
a delicate power you need to protect
a relic from another world, an alien
different
but why compare a dark towering forest to a flower
we are not like gold and silver
we are not precious and we do not hold worth
we are manufactured of mud and clay
as your ancestors and the ones before you were
and I was raised, like mountains from earth, to believe
that all people were merely and nothing less than
human
and we do not earn this right

my retainer broke and i held it in my hand
my nails were ***** because we were at camp
it was red plastic despite tasting like metal
and you were there, we walked into a boat
abandoned in the dry sand piled high
i kept seeing flies and i felt my heart
it was enormous and i couldn't stand
you made a face to show that you felt the same
when i told you about my fear of them,
and i made a face when you said you'd
forgotten to let me know, that in seven weeks
it would be goodbye, and you were leaving
for the empty deserts of California

i thought about the days and how to tell you
that i loved you, that i loved you, here,
that goodbye was all i had and all i could give
because my mouth was full from all the camp food
and the darkness you had chased away

you told me to sit by you later
when we watched the symphony play

when i woke up i couldn't shake the feeling that you had
died

scraps of cosmic resonance
in every neuron's eloquence
taking up in residence
as misty image fast presents

algorithmic street signs
with altruistic elegance
senses and the sensible
of whom Socrates is enviable
a heron, preferring solid ground
but taking to the skies with pride
for she knows that she'll accomplish both
because when born she made her oath
"dear lord, they're all asking you
to give them what they have not
but all that i would ask from you
is to give me the courage not to choose"
and so today she sings her songs
metallic and melodic, perfect balance,
and she knows she's never going to fall
because if you're in the middle, there's no gravity at all

They ask me why I go through the pain.

The pain of distance.
The pain of silence.
The pain of difference.
The pain of jealousy.
The pain of harshness.
The pain of helplessness.
The pain of bitterness.
The pain of emptiness.

They ask me why I go through the pain
And I reply that
Without pain there is no joy.

The joy of finally holding each other's hand after a long flight home.
The joy of a "how are you" after a busy day.
The joy of learning a new song or listening to an idea you'd never dreamed could exist.
The joy of relief when they say you are the one and only.
The joy of hearing quick wit from the living room, starting as a lighthearted chuckle, changing to boisterous and cynical guffaws.
The joy of finally hearing the tears begin to fall when they've been held in for far too long and you can move forward.
The joy of the break in the silence after a difficult day when the apologies flow like honey, slow and sweet.
The joy of finally being whole, when life becomes real and free, and everything before it a papier mache mystery.

They ask me why I go through the pain.
What a pity: they have never been in love.

i know you told me you tell all your friends i love you
but when i see them coming near you with their sugarcoated lips
the devil on my shoulder, who dresses like you but her lipstick's red,
tells me that my pixelated poetry can't be enough
i know you told me that the week was hell and now you need sleep
but when i flash before your eyes like rain before it falls into a puddle,
indecernable, and i an feel your eyes boaring into my soul, i think,
maybe i just need to try one more time, though you're tired
i know you told me your life is hard and its all you can do to stay alive
but here i go again, putting my anthill of cough medicine and paycuts
next to a mountain of car accidents and sleepless nights i never knew,
and you listen to every word and break my heart

i know you told me that you love me
but the devil on my shoulder laughs like you some days,
because you are the sunlight covered by my clouds
and all i am is undeserving

i am less of a person
and more of a personality

eons of tears are streaming down her face
a rainshower of the past and forgotten
exploding into a waterfall
she doesn't know why the storm came now
but she knows that she's got no reason for it
and it makes the thunder grow louder