he slipped his fingers
through the crack in the door
looked around
behind his shoulder
he shifted his eyes side to side
someone should have told him
they noticed
he brought his knee up
to his chin
or his chin down to his knee
and with that, cracked the door
and slipped out
locking the door behind him he thought he locked his mind
the warmth still pulsed behind him
and he heard the baby cry
his ******* lingered behind
him on the ****
come on, come on
my man
come on

he was taught to keep his eyes wide open
never narrow his glance for that which he might miss
and for that he lived a fallacy with that woman
he lived just for her breath
until his own paled in comparison
people lie when they say he left because of the times
that he is a summation of statistic
because he left for what he was taught
a gross misunderstanding
of generations
of disfigured parables
which left him rewired and not suited
for this life or any life
poor husk

but his fingers fell away from the ****
and he ran
so far that the world wept
his feet bloodied
when people asked where he was from
there were moments of clearness and he felt
his time was not wasted
but it was impossible to know it
he could see things like no one else
and it was his job to write them down
and so he did
until his fingers crumbled

time got by
time got in the way
shoved down his throat
he gurgled and spit up his shame
it burned a hole in his belly
until he could stomach it no more
and
threw up a map
he stared at its edges in his calloused hands
and he knew the place, his next destination
he followed it back
a path which burned with every retraced step
and the world wept
but this time for a different reason
his ******* found the familiar ****
he looked around
behind his shoulder
he shifted his eyes from side to side
slipped his fingers through the crack and stepped inside
someone should have told him
they noticed

he's staring at the bottom of a boot
he can feel his lower teeth
stuck through his lip and
he wants to cry out
my baby boy
he lowered his head and
for the first time felt what he had done

my head was split open
a mustard seed
a newborn still wet with afterbirth
there were things I needed
from your words
from your mind
but you fed me fallacies

my body was slight in stature
a girl of eight years
they wanted to bleach my skin
dilute me in the holy waters
so I could become
more hallowed than human
yet saved by human mercy

when she comes to me
water-born and slick with life
I will not use love or fear
to teach her those things
she will know truth
and prowess,
loveliness, and loneliness
of the most vital

I’m afraid to close my eyes
literally close my eyes
when the sleep creeps in I feel it
like a clash within my body
my eyes are dry and aching
pleading for the life to stay behind them
my spine is sown to the floor
and I kick it with the heel of my boot
you see there’s this demon
that lives in the roof of my mind
and when I allow him
he comes down
and knocks me out
and while I’m down and out he has his way
with my mind
and once I’m completely submerged
is when he comes
the lightless Agares
he stands in the doorway
slithers over to my Abaddon
and I am lifted

there is a desert, lives inside me
she grows large, while I grow tiny

she likes to come around at times throughout the day
she puts my mind to sleep and keeps my friends at bay

when did she come? I do not know
how'd she arrive? When will she go?

I think and think and think and think until I fall asleep
and when I wake I cannot speak, can't even make a peep

she grows and grows within me, too fast to slow her down
but one can live inside me, how will I push her out?

It is hard to make decisions, they always lead to strife
but one here must be made, to end the others life

I plunge into this vacuum, ready for some fighting
I grab my bag of weapons and feel my blood igniting

I pull out creativity and she pulls out aggression
I then pull out vitality and she pull out depression

one swing one hit, one cut one blow, we battle on equitably
it looks as though I just might lose, she raises up formidably

high above her head, she wields one self-destruction
inside my mind I build one final plan construction

because I cannot fathom to let her win this fight
I take out my last weapon, and ****** my own life.

I watched it wash over you
the sludge drug you down
it's cool wafts breathed carelessly across your neck
and sunk you down with waves

there was a crack of silence
you never spoke a word
sat there as your empire buckled
a mute speechless fool

let legions lick fire to your heels
and pour out your hot blood
onto the stage around your convictions
it is okay
to become a casualty in a war you at least tried to fight

tonight when I got home
I pulled my hair into a ponytail.
I wished I could have kept pulling,
up and up until every little thing
and every last hair was off my shoulders.
-
I was running down my street tonight.
a meager glance down and I saw
another shadow chasing mine.
breathlessly,
excitedly I braked
in time to realize both shadows belonged to me.
-
tonight I mapped the distance
from Salt Lake to Phoenix;
11 hours and 18 minutes.
should I stop through Vegas
or the Grand Canyon?
-
I fell asleep alone tonight
in a bed too spacious for my body.
through murky midnight eyes,
I thought I caught you turning over.
what I didn't realize
is that you are not sleeping here
not tonight
and not the night before.

I said come back, come back
back before the line is crossed
but you just stared your bare beam
blank in the face
I tried to take it in but I couldn't
not with you looking like that
holing it away
I never knew you to be a liar
so that's it then
the thought broke me but I think that was your aim
to make me feel as barren as your vacant face
as desolate as I left you that night
well congratulations
we're even

but I still feel small compared to your unearthly laugh
I feel it when I'm downtown locked away in a tiny apartment
choking on my gargled laugh to indulge a smart mans dull humor
how do you do that?
make your laugh like God?
he waits for a response that will never arrive

never teach me venom
I already feel it rolling through my veins
after your bite
no I find people to **** it back out
lips bleeding the life from me with every draw
so I can fall faint
so faint I can't remember your name and I can't remember
what
i
did
to
you
and I'm sorry
I guess that's all I'd say
if  we were to meet again one day

there is not always hope
And that is depressing,
but also, inspiring.
hope in God, hope in the universe
in humanity, in family, in friends
hope in authority, hope in power
in karma, in school
hope in yourself.
so many places hope can be lost.
But it is our decision to make.

There is not one person, not one thing,
there is no army nor one disaster that could take your hope away from you.
Except yourself.
You choose hope.
Hope is yours.
and hallelujah for that
hallelujah for hoping in ourselves
hallelujah to the bright eyed seven year old boy
giving his happy meal to a homeless man
hallelujah to the stiletto wearing women
inviting friends to stay the night
hallelujah to Martin Luther King
hallelujah to the sun, rising each morning
and hallelujah to your mother
for not caring that your best friend likes the way you look in your swimsuit

He could be scared and fragile but he had a big heart.
He knew when to take her into his arms and make her know that she was safe there.
He gave his all,
even in times when he thought his all seemed so pale.
He could shine so bright,
but wasn't afraid to step down
let others share in the basking.
He was thoughtful
he made everyone crazy, including himself.
He took initiative.
He made her feel better than him -out of his league
although it was the other way around.
He was silly and confusing and brighter than he led on.
He could talk for hours
he listened when you needed.
He was beautiful.
Oh and his laugh... made him seem like a child with hope that reached far down into his belly.
He was going to change someones world
just not hers

What is it that makes a person cry?
Something bubbles up from within, threatening the tears to come to the surface of your eyes and spill over, but what is that feeling?
How does it come?
When our bodies are aching with despair, in physical pain over emotional torture, how do our eyes know to fill with a watery film?
Why are they the physical evidence of the emotional pain within?
What is it, really, that makes a person cry?

upon the colorless face
of the moon
an unforeseen story begins
impossible to arouse
the children from their sopor
so to fathom the story of the moon they cannot
rising, the night swallows the children
with hopes of queens
seen only in dreams
cast under an umbrella of magic and confusion
where the welfare of man
is to outlive the days of the earth
walking
running towards
hope
carelessness
laughter
this is the story of the moon

a tree so strong
never moving
stand your ground
though confusing
to love through the night
though you can't see
to trust with blind faith
this could never be me
enduring through all
with hope so vast
loving all the while
I give hope to those steadfast

i loved you once
one morning
you filled my heart with sunshine
something i never knew existed
bright afternoon
not thinking of tomorrow
what a foolish thought;
thinking days were forever
the dawn came
i was scared
you
you left me
and i
i will never be the same

slithers up the stairs
black as night his mutant skin drips upward
one
more
stair

she can hear him slink
one foot in front of the other
she retreats her hallowed head

the stalker climbs higher
higher than his arrogance could ever take him
and higher than the noose he has hung
for the depredation of her

screams forewarning in her head
this is the man which shares her bed
lunges forth and bolts the latches
head heart body spirit

bites the tattered tenderness
feels it bleed between his teeth
swallows her last atonement
so that there is nothing left to offer
envy rips through shivering splinters of a man
with nothing left to cover

she stalks across the bedroom
where she can see a hopeful face
where peaceful air once drifted high
will return again that way
a pis aller leap
from where she never stood again
this man will not be the death of her

perfectly soft, cascading hair
crest of a neck so real
stripped of all innocence laying bare
words could never heal
on her sleeves, emotions to wear
silence of the night thick to feel
never would she be the same
only loneliness -herself remain

walking through the halls
facing all her peers
no one would ever know at all
her watermark of tears
couldn't tell she'd built a wall
to keep inside her fears
would never let one break it down
comfortable inside her frown

looking now inside to face herself at last
she's battling demons now, demons all her own
rising triumph threatens to destroy her happy past
tearing ripping swallowing up what was once her home
emptiness consumes her, left in a field so vast
why me now this? all questions left unknown

never would she be the same
only loneliness -herself remain

I look out the glass
clearing my head
contemplating
he wonders if something is wrong
I'm quiet at dinner
appreciating ambiance
he wonders why I'm distant
I disagree with his futile attempts
to take me on adventure

I need to feel safe

but he wonders how we are so different
I weep - alone - but he hears
he wonders what he has done
his intentions are pure
his feelings hurt
but why can't he see - if I can't handle myself, how will I ever handle him.