it's too much.
these beds I made.
my skin is so heavy.
I am under this
parachute of
coyness, but now
it's falling down
around me and I flail
in the waves, choke,
cough and toss.
remember how they said
don't wish for a thousand
coins because they'll all land
and crush your body?
I think, it's probably
best to be careful
for what you
ask  for, whether
it's forward
or backwards in
time. because once your
grass is green,
you have to roll
in it.
whether it tickles
your collar
or not.

the light won't
change.  It's cold
and I feel my
stomach rumble with
the times.  Somewhere
my past self
is tucked up beside
him, asleep already
wrapped in her current
state of affairs.
Future me is on
a plane. with peanuts on
her lap, sipping
ginger ale on
her trip
to Whatever's Next,
But now.  
As the cars
go, I'm still here
and it's still
not changing.
And as I ****
up my breath and
face into the wind,
I cross and
hope that neither
cars or
the whims of
fate hit
me too hard.

you can't tell
me anything, Universe.
I ask you
I ask you
I press the
fate button.
and you shut
your coy little
lips and say
no no
don't look
no peeking-
I'll just be
behind this tree
trust me, you'll
like it-
just take another
step forward.
yep, keep going.
But see, How?
how do I know
you didn't paint
a trompe- l'oeil
of a pit
just beneath my
toe tips
how do I know
whether I'll fall
into a cave
or wind up in
an office?
Just open
that door.
I want to
look into the hall
maybe peer at
your houseplants
the radiators
and doorknobs of
the future.
just some
spoilers.
then I'll
leave you
alone, I swear
I'll turn off
the lights, tuck
in and just
keep
walking on til
the end.

You said I
shouldn't
eat it before
dinner.
But I
did
anyway.
Sorry, Mom.

there was
a moment just now
that I realized
there were
no headphones filling
my ears.
this was unexpected
and
alarming.
the insides
of my face
apparently
appear to
have their own
unnoticeable
soundtrack.

I was scared
to turn up
the stairs
lest you be
waiting for
me
there.
who knows
what lies
in the dark
who tells the
truth when the
switch is un-
switched.
but when
big hands
turned on
the lights,
I opened my
eyes and
still
could not
see what was
hidden in those
shapes crouching
in the
shadows
of your
empty
halls.

you might be
'oh yeah?'
in a poem,
I said. with
the lights flashing
by, not
the cops but
a sign
proclaiming
something about
shoes changing
red, red
green, red, switch.

the things
that come out
came out of
my mouth,
I hope they
don't fly
back in.  
'cos
I just
may
want to
keep
those
golden eyes
for
a while.