I watch the clouds slip past
In the reflections they cast;
The scattered about puddles
Stretch for miles and miles.

And aren’t we all? Reflections
Of the experiences we bear;
All scattered about time,
And stretching across years.

Sleep to banish the sad, sleep to seep up the tears from my face, sleep to reap the benefits of death.

I finger myself to your words. Touched by yours truly, truly touched by yours

I wonder if you got caught or catched or just can’t

Talk to me

Make no mistake - she was not
Perfectly kept and tended to by
Loving hands each night and day,
As such a fragile thing aught.

She was wild - she was free;
She lived amongst the broken
Things, took root in a crack of
Pavement and bloomed her
Vibrant petals for all to see.

A joke to choke on

Why do your words feel like slaps on my wrists, hands and fingertips.

Carpet burned knees
Puking next to the trees
Paying the fee
For feminity

The first thing they will see are my eyes:  probably glazed over or maybe bulging with anxiety and regret. Maybe dipped in tears, a salty salute. A salutation of goodbyes.

The last thing my eyes see: four boxes stacked neatly together. Cubicles or canteens to hold my sorrows and secrets. Binders binding the bills that beat me down. And the makeup stacked haphazardly to hide the beating and the mistreating. A treated piece of wood your grandfather made you, but you can’t stand to see it. Hats and gloves to keep my numb limbs warm, chapstick to keep my lips from warp. Pigment passes my pupil, a grey brown and then it’s all over.

When I am laid to rest,
Burn me like the passion
I held in my chest is now
Nothing but ash and dust;
Scatter me among the wild
Flowers and ocean breeze -
Remember me when petals
Fall and wind rustles
Between the leaves.

why are there so many lawyers
in hell, the priests
have to have someone to talk to

I just want to want to want to be alive. But I don’t have any wishes left.

I always wear my glasses on top my head, to think clearer.