I don't know why I like the floor so much,
Maybe it's because you taught me that
This is where I belonged,
And where I was the most productive,
As though pleasuring you from my knees
Was any indicator of my worth.
But I have discovered many things
From this vantage point.
I have noticed a crack in the floorboard
Beneath which I hid every love letter
You ever tucked into my mailbox,
I have discovered a locked box
Hidden beneath my bed
And I don't know what's inside it
But it shakes and rattles and screams
Every night around two am,
So I'm afraid to open it,
I have found a marble under my dresser,
One of those clear ones
With something colorful inside,
But it looks more like blood and tissue
Than anything, in my opinion,
I have also came upon a spot
In which the floor does not creak,
And it always seems to be cold,
A perfect place to rest my cheek.
But the last thing I uncovered
Was a skeleton in my closet,
Folded and tucked into the corner,
As though it didn't want to be found,
So I found the strength,
To lift myself to my knees
(It was always a powerful position)
And I pulled the skeleton out,
And despite its efforts to clamp its bony fingers
To my wrist and never let me go
I threw it in the dumpster,
And rediscovered home.

carefully

                     carefully
  
                                             carefully


you slipped yourself into my veins

I don't know
Who saw who first
It don't matter
much to me

I don't know
What song was playing
When I first laid eyes on you
But, I just knew I had to know you
Before the night was through

I remember very closely
What you wore
When we first met
The blouse, the jeans
The perfume
That's one thing I won't forget




Little things escape me
Details...not for me
I look at the big picture
And that's just what I see


Your favorite drink....don't ask me
Your favorite movie...not a chance
The details all escape me
They just leave me in a trance


I remember very closely
What you wore
When we first met
The blouse, the jeans
The perfume
That's one thing I won't forget

I know nothing of the small stuff
The details are out of mind
To me, they're not important
That's why I leave them all behind

I thought I would run out of words
when soft beams of light peaked past the horizon,
like the letters would sink down with the moon.
Because for years I’ve made the stars my ink
and the night sky my canvas.
I guess the sunlight just feels strange
when you’ve spent so much time in darkness.
But now it warms my frosted fingers,
pulsing liquid lava through my veins.
Sleepless nights becoming tired mornings.
But they are new.
And so am I.
I can write about hope,
even if I have so little left.
I can write about truth,
even though I lie right through my teeth.
I can write about peace,
even though I see none of it in me.
And I can write about love,
even though I haven’t the faintest clue
of what it could be.

I want you to be unsure of
the words you want to say,
because I know I sure as hell am.
I’d rather live half way in the past
than lose something I never had.
And don’t you dare call me a coward
just because I’m scared to write these words.
You can’t love me.
You’re not allowed to love me.
I won’t let you.
Because you deserve the ocean
and I can only offer droplets.
Slipping sand right through my fingers,
crumbling rock beneath my feet.
Every glowing star goes dim
when your eyes reflect their light.
And I can’t stomach hopeful answers
from even more hopeful lips, but I will try.
I will try.
I will try to grow new gardens
from ancient soil in my heart.
Perhaps this time it’s ready,
perhaps it will spread through every limb.
And you might say I’ve jumped
right into the deep end,
but it’s the only way I know how to swim.