I wish I couldn’t see the things that aren’t ok.
I wish I didn’t feel the pain.
I wish I didn’t hear the noise.
And that I was just able to move without the tension.
I’m so stuck.
I’m so sad.

I wish I could leave this dark place and the pressure.
I wish I was free from everything.
I wish it stopped, all of the pushing and pulling.
At last.

I’m so dark but my hair is light.
Dying it won’t fix anything.
So I try not to be tempted.
Leave me be, I’m so sad and so tired of it.

The peach tree died today,
dried from inside,
there is no butterflies, no bees, no birds that feast.
lie to me & tell me its okay.
Invent a story or two,
tell me the tap broke, tell me you fell asleep.
Just don't speak the unspoken truth, that you were busy with them.
As I was away dreaming of our future white picket fence. . .

desire is an enigma
rearing heads
razing beds
and god, the stigma
enough to make pretend
that
you never felt the fire
never used it to inspire
never wanted to get higher
like a vocal by Meg Myers

a falsetto
in stilettos
piercing hearts
robbing temples
unheard prayers
or the little death
that holds you
in your final breath

Poetry is like a painting,
You have a blank canvas
and what you are left with
Is a work of art

Never let go.
Just a sip of strong.
Left to my own.
What was the test?
Must not confess.
Keep it covered.
Who will know?
Felt that way.
Too shy to own.
No regret for then.
Was it just selfish.
Was it for purpose.
But, now-
My own private wrong.

a comet goldfish

left to the orange

imagination of its own

measurement.

turning water into

wind--lithely segwaying

around a mountainess

jade Buddha.

stuffed with laughter.