You shouldn’t be there
At the back of my mind
You shouldn’t be
My morning and waking hour thoughts
You shouldn’t be
my 11:11 mantra
You shouldn’t be
my wish upon a shooting star
You shouldn’t be there
It’s very unconventional
You should be here, right here
Right beside me, here in my arms

i.

Debased, feeling unworthy, I was a shackled, debackled
Seeking, looking, yearning, in all the wrong place's;
Seeing a billion face's, none I couldst connecteth to
I sought a spirit, an unknown so true, one to maketh me alive.

ii.

Betwixt the contour of blood and gore, that this place hath spilt
Lava poured downward, no smelling perfume's, devil endorsed;
I bit mine lip's from the pinch of the blaze, demon's eye's glazed
None water, none rain, as tis this dungeon was a devlish porch.

iii.

In shock, mine pupil's rolled to the back of mine bone
I felteth left behind, none amour', none more safety abode;
BLASTTTTTTTTTTT, cameth a flicker, a Cosmos shaking
The earth quaking, beneath mine toe's, mine being felt so whole.

iv.

I cleped out this stardust cloaked Reyna's name, O' Reyna,
Whence thou cometh, thee is it, I've known from past living's;
I grabbed tightly, to her Filipino strand garb, as I felt the falling rain stain's cometh down her cheek's, Hi Brandon, I'm Mrs nagley.

v.

Kilig hadst grabbed mine inside's, as for with her I took a ride
We spaceshipped to the milky way, I met archangel's of divine;
Here was none time, just ion's of delighting peace, west and east
I bowed mine cranium, as I kneweth she was mine wife, O' life.

O' angelic saving wife.........

I take into consideration everything you've said.  It becomes gospel, and your word is your truth. Behind the breath that pushes it out is the furnace of a victim.

When it hits, translation transferred. Within it's stir I break. A meaning pure beyond intention, seeps through the cracks of my lips.

I sigh through my broken teeth. I know exactly what this means.

There's unitended consequences in everything, you know? If sometimes we just looked an inch further. If sometimes we just stuck around a bit longer.

But you felt compelled, who was I to stop you? Can't say I didn't try. Now we see that your perfect plan didn't change your affliction, it contributed to mine.

Your lure is ever enticing, slamming me into that wall. The wall you built and I obeyed. Weaker nights I cry out from the pain. And I curse my weakness, I curse the day you went away.

I let others lie to me, and it's getting easier now.

Do you ever wonder about me? Or are you sure of my can't?

I can't say I'm polished perfect, but I'd do anything, and I'd certainly understand.

Boardwalk beach goers
Strolled in ball caps
And in wide-brimmed hats
And in flip flops
And in cover-ups casually tied over low-slung bikinis
Lining the railing of the weathered pier
Eyes half closed, hands folded, heads atilt
Shoulders squared to a fading sun
A familiar form among the silhouettes
Twenty years hence
A cascade of raven hair
A billowing summer dress
My single breath
Then across rutted planks
To finally slake the thirst for another and
Be free of the malfeased heart
The lilt of perfume
Light, breathless, familiar
Transported back through time
To burn white hot again
Only to blanch at the precipice
Before the gray water
Silent

We almost made it
Hence the word almost
You left with no trace

Do you regret leaving?
I* am a mess without you
Don't pretend we were nothing

You promised you'd be there for me
Only me
Unfortunately, you lied

Liquor is now your replacement
Eating seems pointless
After you left, everything lost meaning
Volcano meets tornado
Erase my foolishness

Maybe I still love you
Even now, when you don't deserve it

*?

the moon is a lesbian,
which i know because she has
kissed every inch of my body
more often than any lover
i've ever known.

i have watched the way
she kisses the ocean
and guides her gently home,
have seen her face reflected with love
in the ever-changing sparkling surface of the sea,
and i don't know any other word
to describe a love like that.

the day we smoked a joint in the woods
and then walked eight miles in the rain
to gas station coffee,
we passed two other gas stations on the way,
but you were holding my hand and
i didn't want it to stop.
you said
"you're beautiful"
and i said
~~~~
because you were the most remarkable
person i had ever seen,
leaned up against the hood of a stranger's car,
smoking a cigarette like a lesbian james dean.

you'd call yourself
"lesbian" sixteen times before breakfast
until it stopped sounding like venom
and started to sound like a prayer,
because how could i ever look at
love like this and feel anything
but holy?
my new church was the woods
by the river,
and i learned to worship
at the altar of your body.
you took me in your arms and you said,
"baby,
you're beautiful,"
and i told you i loved you
because beautiful had never
meant anything to me
except that i had something
people could take.
i heard "beautiful" from your lips and it sounded
like a blessing.

the moon is a lesbian because
she knows how to love without taking,
i have scarcely loved a man
who has learned how to love without taking,
that is not to say that no man
can love without taking,
but it is a skill that is learned
through a grief
that i have shared with every
queer woman i have ever met.

when you kissed me in the attic,
it was not the first time
i had been kissed,
but it was the first time that a touch
felt like a gift and not a punishment,
and it was the first time i understood
why people write love songs.
i wanted to write you a love song,
but after a lifetime afraid of my own voice,
all i could sing you were hymns.
not because i had made you an idol,
but because your hands on my body
made me feel clean for the first time.

the moon is a lesbian because
the night i stumbled out of
the apartment of the man
who only loved me when
he thought he could keep me,
blood on my lips and nowhere to go,
the moon kissed my fingertips
and she said,
"baby,
what took you so long?
welcome home."

You think you know every little crack, every crevice in my soul; yet there is so much of my life’s book that you haven’t read. My hair is a carefully styled mess, strategically placed static, and my lips are what they are- lonely. Sometimes I think you wonder about who I am, my origins; I can’t say that I don’t either. How’d I end up as such as mistake? You love me for what you say are perfections, yet you see not the real me, you see the front I put up, my acting. How can one be addicted to a person who doesn’t even know themself? Yet loving you makes me want to learn.

We both **** the life, the very being from each other; yet it is still not enough. I want to hook myself to you like an IV, to pull the gold running through your veins into my conciousness and let it light me. If there was a way to evaporate your essence and save it in a bottle for later, I’d be the scientist who discovered the way to do it. The very scent of you carried on the air from yards away is enough to register me for a few centuries in an asylum. You say you barely wearr cologne, and I understand it. You wear yourself, a fragrance I wish I could rub all over myself every second of every day, every time I curl up in a ball on my bed after you drive home at night, wondering why it is you can’t just stay.

You belong to the road, you’ve sold your soul to the feeling of the wind in your hair. I can’t break your contract with independence, but I can tag along for the ride. Seeing you so happy, getting your racer’s tan, blaring the radio until the speakers want to scream. Why can’t I partake in your happiness? I wish there was a way for us to share the love for the world that you have; in its’ place in my mind is loathing. The only reason for living I have is you- and all I ask of you is to answer this one question; how have you fallen for this fallen angel, the outcast of society, the girl whom everyone forgot to remember and who you didn’t remember to forget?