“Are you mad at me?” No.
“Well, do you blame me?” I hadn’t really considered
fault.
cumulous clouds loomed over a building
                                                    with­ a roof
                                                          like a staircase

the steps rose north, a garden placed south. It was a sunny day at first.
You gathered a pack and I met you on the corner. We walked
                       to Summit Rock. Heels in the ground and ooze
on the outer soles of shoe. Soggy soil,
our elbows linked and you held on to a flimsy branch.
                         How did we not go falling right there?

I mispronounced in the aim of humor,
which was the only reason
anything was funny at all. Yellow powder
stained curious noses and it all felt like what you have heard for so long.
“I know you aren’t fond of this”
this is what it looks like when the storm dies.
How long does it take you to realize
you’ve been sitting
in silence
the whole time?

I wondered how I looked from the window of the sixth floor
Ebullient gestures
felt like mockery where the joke once stood. No one is looking
at you.
Finally, forfend the intransigence you call will and find yourself
with an empty mind. Do you not want to know where this goes?

As it pertains to the clouds, there has never been a clear day.
I was on the opposite

side of the street when I noticed this
tree
          and saw you.
There was a raindrop, two, then many. Soil dry doesn’t take water
well.
Cotton collects and I was close to home.
I wasn’t expecting this, no, not this
at all.

“My sailboat is out
here,
in the desert,”
a ruddy arm’s line leads
to a ***** fingernail
“the beach was over here.” It all
used to make sense to me once.

There are stains in the carpet,
but I can’t remember the story behind them.
“Oh!”
a half full glass tilts, breaks.
there are reasons to believe in the tedium.
The water crawled forward,
back, and never again.
I was doubting it all down the line.

They rationed joy and I felt my feet as they dried.

If my life was trying to get from one place to another,
it would be like this.

I’m doubting it all down the line.
It’s a hard place to be.

“I’m always doing the bothering,”
Fear lied.

You played the victim like a light bulb
Calling itself a flame.

I self-soothed,
as a dog licks his paw after a stick splinters his tongue.
What’s supposed to be play has turned tear.

Today, I felt like a message never sent:
Stuck in the in-between.

Do I go forward or become a missed chance?
Fault is inclined to the wrong side.
I caught it and stumbled.

Why can’t I say it out loud?
Are the details so intricate, so cruel that no words will suffice?
Footsteps are always the response.
Left awake with the burr of
the oscillating fan reminds me:
Transparency doesn’t lend itself to empathy

A twisted tongue, fumble-y fingers, a dropped gaze,
The knock never returned.

I never want to come back here again.

Will you love me still, please give me a sign?
For the petals fall, the day turns to night,
Wind uproots the trees, pressure breaks the twine.
I fear your fondness fading, shall we fight.
I declare my worries, for if you flee,
The shadows will capture me from the sun.
Flowers will bloom, but no longer in me.
My heart will twist in knots, never undone.
O, you insist your emotions are real,
Strong enough to keep the tree with its roots.
It’s hard to tell if that is how you feel,
But I cannot let my doubts cause disputes.
O, will the rain keep our love pure and true?
I know I love you, do you love me, too?

They say insanity is
Doing the same thing
Over and over again
And expecting a different result.

But what’s the word
For trying everything possible
and not seeing a change?

The doctor asks me
How many pounds I can lift
Before it hurts and I don’t know
How to answer because there isn’t a scale
To measure the weight of depression.

He asks me where I feel the pain
And I say my back
But I don’t mention my brain and my heart
Because that’s not what I came here for

He asks me if I eat well,
I say yes because being full
is the only thing
that makes me feel less empty.

He asks me what makes it hurt more
I say everything,
But I want to scream for him to fix
Not only my back,
But what’s going on inside my head

An MRI tells me it’s a fracture,
Which proves my constant misery,
Unfortunately, it doesn’t show
My constant anxiety

Maybe that’s not so unfortunate

Later, people ask me why I’m crying
And I say it’s my back but only because
That’s an easier place to point to.

I’m going to stomp my feet into every puddle
Until I can’t distinguish the tears running down my cheeks
From the rain tumbling to the ground
The sky has a way of curing,
Like running your hand under cold water
After you’ve accidentally touched the stove,
Numbing the pain but leaving you with your wound
to remember that everyone makes mistakes
My arms extended from my sides
My heart faces the sun
And my eyes closed,
Accepting nature’s natural way
Of washing away all of my worries

The clouds will finally part and the rain will slow…
I will be left in the middle of the street,
Shivering, but feeling pure bliss
how else are you supposed to learn to
not get near the things
that will leave you with tender skin?

If the way you verbally abuse yourself,
Caused you physical harm
How often would you do it?

No one would ever think of
Punching themselves in the stomach
So why do we always talk to ourselves
Like we are boxers
Trying to win a match
Against our biggest enemy
When our biggest enemy
Is our conscious
Telling us
That we aren’t good enough