You just stood there, arms at your side,
The playground filled with silence, you moved on,
Walking away, your dark hair, balding head,
I called out but you just left me there, left, gone.

You were always so gone, but even then I may confess,
It's psychology, did you intend to leave me there?
I was helpless I felt no one could save me,
I cried and cried and wondered if you ever did care.

My pain burst and the tear drops in my eyes,
But these were no ordinary fears, for some reason I guess,
You'd been there for only more than two years,
I think you put them into me, maybe you weren't the best?
Well the belt, the whip, the hate the pain, you always were
There for guilt trips and blame, was it all just me?

Such a dark person, perhaps you seemed to want us believe,
To trust you that this thing God was a man, that it's all "Pater Pan,"
Although Disney was racist, but that's hard for some to conceive.

He thinks it's okay
To toss her aside,
To break her bones
To hit her twice, three times,
Eight times
A day.
He thinks it's okay to tell her
She's ****
She's worthless
She's garbage
Just to tell her how sorry he is
When night falls
And all has finally gone quiet.
He will hold her and she'll let him
Because she forgives him
And she believes him
Over and over and over again.
And she doesn't get that he's the sinner
And she's the saint.
She's putting on more makeup to hide
The bruises, now dark blue.
She has stopped coming to dinner.
She's wasted space, so he says,
So it matters not if she's thinner.
He tells her she's ugly and the dress
Is distasteful.
So she goes to the bathroom, tells him
She'll change.
She sobs on the floor, her mind gone a strange.
How could she let it get to this?
She lifts her head, whispers "no".
She gets up to the window.
She could have picked the razor or the rope,
She could freeze out in the snow,
But she chose to live.
Otherwise he would win.
She crawled outside, quick and quiet.
And ran.
As she ran she began to smile,
And thought,
This is what it's like to be free,
I'm free, I'm free!
No longer would she have to plea
To stay alive.
She felt all the burdens slip behind her as she carried on,
Knowing now he had not won.
The tears on her face dried on cold,
Replaced now with being bold.
The dark blue bruises blended into
The winter night
And would eventually fade
With morning light.

have you ever believed
in something so blindly
so genuinely
that the moment you realize
it isn't true, something inside you
changes forever?
i wanna tell you a story, see
seldom do i ever
go swimming in drinks
deep enough to drown in
but when i do
i speak in tongues
about things that none
of my memories
are allowed to talk about
like that christmas
at the isthmus
where my girlfriend
plucked a conch shell
whiter than gods teeth
out of the sand
held it to her ear
and stopped time
that day she was a shade of blue
the could've made the ocean sick
see, she loved to play jokes
when she held
the sea shell to her ear
she gasped, called my name
and said "i want you to hear this"
i said "yeah, right, everybody knows it's just the same old sea"
she replied "no. not this one. this one is special. listen. theres music in this one"
she handed me the shell
like a promise she couldn't keep
and i held it to my ear
with all the potential
of seeing shore
after being stranded
at sea for years
only to hear
a tired dirge of silence
spill from its emptiness
i guess she didn't know
how desperately
i wanted to hear it too
because ever since
something inside me snapped
now sand pours out
of every post card i open
i hear seagulls
in telephone static
sometimes i have dreams
where i bury my hands
in every beach
i've ever been on
and exhume this graveyard of noise
every time i try to sleep
i spit up fishhooks
and i guess i'm obsessed
but maybe
if i hold my ear
to enough vacant things
then i could have back
the time stolen from me
since it happened
maybe they would get it
if they knew what i wanted
when i blow out birthday candles
maybe they'll find me
face down in a wishing well
i watch eternal sunshine
of the spotless mind every day
pretending i can forget too
because this sea sickness
has followed me for years
because yesterday
i walked into a music shop
and all the pianos broke
but the only thing
i can think to say is
*do you know how bad
a memory has to be
that you fantasize
about forgetting it?

I spend
hours
listening to
music
that no one
else likes.
I draw on myself:
my arms,my clothes are
covered in pen

When I younger,
I would eat the
junk food
my grandma gave me
when driving me home
from school.
I lied to my parents
about eating the food;
"No,Mom,
no,Dad,
I didn't eat
what Grandma gave
me."
I always lied to my parents
but they found out anyway
and they never believed me
again.

My sweetest addiction
is lies,
sugary fantasies
that never fill you up
The gluttony just makes you hungrier
for the
truth.
Today I am
an honest person,
but I still crave lies.

But
if I crave lies,
why do I also
want the
truth?

A shoebox of letters
hand written on yellow looseleaf
pages upon pages of promises
written in red ink,
a coffin in need of a burial
a reminder of a life
and a love denied.

February 14th, 1989
penned within my first year
the name at the top is not mine
but she writes to him
the way you will write to me
only two decades later.

I shiver as I read each draft;
to realize our failed romance
was but an echo of the past.