bone traitor.
Skin viper
Edge Stealer
Ridge maker
Health reflector.
Mirror- you liar!
Rogue on the scale...
Signs that my brain has duped me;
Floating oily in the
Basin
Phantom aches
Blood test lies
Powdery remedies pressed almond abandon all cows
Bean curd body snatching
**** the doctor to get a clue

Girl in pain this isn't me so-
Who the hell are you?

We had hope as she closed us up tight.
Mama, will it hurt?
"Hush," on her lips and she sent ants to
kiss our anxious tears.
And she whispered
Just as we fall, so
We grow

Heart not
Of my heart
But still in my veins
Womb dweller, outside
my body
Me, a native invader in a constant
Place.

And [t]his will always be
A glass house

not a welcome home.

My heart walks away, for a time,
Just to be safe...
She's a prize fighter, I know how to fall
Down. Rips, fissures, normal wear for 31 years
In the shower silence
In that quiet place she stands and I unfurl
A life is a life, lived, fought, dribbled away or burnt
And
This one's hers.
So I stay with the cold space in my chest,
And wait for it to return.

My fear is a pool
Ripples washing ; the wind is deepening.
This ebbs with the moon if I can freeze my reality
But
Radio is the enemy
TV is a liar
I wake up every minute wishing I were dreaming.
1984- 2017
a new world awakening and inside
I am
Screaming.

I mourn for skunks.

The squashed, flattened masses
***** mashed, their stripes scattered
Matted  masks disguising unseeing eyes
Through how many fields have they run?
Once sweet babies, small noses, downlike fur
fleeing to their final place from green leafed bowers in a terrible act of asphalt bait n' switch

Let us all grieve the sacrifice which,
Unto the motor gods
Has been served.

In a  slow, desperate burn, we are falling. Failing.
Too little too late. Too much in the wrong place. Outrage not action.
From the trees, from the sky, we are calling and questioning, bemoaning, condemning.
Our hearts are corroding, our feet slipping, from containing the pain of the
World.
Bridges are snapping, ribs are breaking, eyes are closing.
The pictures we glorified on screen, the peanuts we paid to watch fictional strangers die-
They have stepped out, escaped and run rampant.
We lived the illusions out.
No zombies. No fire. No meteor.
Hate. In tidal waves. Ignorance in brimstone.
Apocalypse is now. We are how.