trust is easier to break
than to put together again

I'm completely comfortable, but I'm not.*

I'm sinking into my bed, under warm blankets with happy thoughts of us.
Until I remember... you're not beside me. My heart aches as I'm reminded of how comfortably uncomfortable I am. Knowing you're not holding me now, but you are.

What can I say
about changing places
and the weary night song
piled outside every window?

It can weigh you down
like happiness, like rain,
like the notion of destiny
or an obligatory farewell
that you carry strapped
to your shoulders.

Believe me, if it would help
you see things in a different light
I would only write poems
about love and dream gardens.

The sun and the fresh air
would do you a world of good,
and I would make it rain just enough
to spruce up the flowers.

I would read these in a French dialect
and part my hair accordingly
like a slight, wry smile.

But the truth is
I could never understand
why a single language is not enough.

Breath blown into an empty bottle
and tossed into the nearest stream.

This human need for a philosophy
of words when a howl would do
much better; after all, we are only dogs wearing a fancy leash and a collar
of home we sometimes call a house.

Places change because with the years
we change even less. We’ve spent
too much time in the dirt
and now everything is relative
because it is under our fingernails.

Scrape away rinse and repeat and still
the hounding memory of nights
under the stars, backs to the chill
of dry ground and nothing but a long sigh
for a sheet to pull up to the neck.

How many sighs does it take to make
a death? Just open your eyes
when the night peaks at its most
exotic and serious black.

We’ve been here before, you and I.
Heard sounds that would never
make sense out of context.

But there was no need to ever
translate what the crickets said.
Was there? For us, once, never a need.

from what well do you drink
and who drinks with you?
look around at your companions
and listen to their words
this is the parameters of your life
to move beyond them
you will have to travel by yourself
and find a different well.

I should silence
this troublesome whispering
inside my heart

I've already considered
the plain facts
of absence

Falling headlong
into its gorge
too soon

Not knowing who might
drown in their own eyes
night after night

It's not my wish to punish
or pain another soul
beyond my own.

i've knocked on wood so hard my knuckles turn purple, they wonder why they had to be pawns in my game;
i've broken so many wishbones in hopes of fixing my brittle ones, specifically the knees i've fallen onto every night yelling at god to give me some of the happiness that everyone promises me i'm going to get
i've stuffed so many lucky charms into my mouth and still i only see the hope leaving my body, no luck of the irish for me, no *** of gold despite the burns i get from sliding down the rainbow
it was promised. it was.
i threw so many teeth over the roof that stopping the bleeding when they hit the soil became my new hobby
because which each part of me that i ruined trying to give out to the people who never cut me some slack, i always picked up the wrong end of the blade and sliced myself right back

if luck is real,
i was born on friday the 13th,
i've always been driving in a car without a fuzzy dice,
black cats are constantly crossing me on the sidewalk and i've spilled salt all over these wounds. my first birthday present was a clock and i can't turn back the time, on my wedding day my husband sees me in my dress before the ceremony, when he walks down the aisle he wonders why it had to be me. the shorter end of the stick pokes me in the side and reminds me it's all i ever get.

It was believed Macbeth was a cursed play, plagued by the death of the first Lady MacBeth. Actors were to avoid saying the name in theatre.
The opening lines were,

"When shall we three meet again?
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?"

I'm afraid my life has been all three

I can tell, you're pushing me out.
You're growing tired of having me around.
It's obvious and makes me feel as though
I could just drown...
I never thought the day would come
when you'd want me out.

I am your bird of prey

Caught between 2 posts
And a glistening fence.

Neck broken,
beak to the ground,
Half way trapped inside
your field of green.

I am your bird of prey,

Wings on a wire,
Still soft and light,
with feathers gleaming
where promise of flight,
newly broken, fell to earth.

'Twas passion that lured me to your
nest, where the cloud kissed Sun
with time
turned ashen my listless frame.

A testament to nature's seduction,
there was no escaping
your embrace
As the warmth
slowly left
my still
beating
heart.