Who are you in the in-between?

"Love."

a title. italics space don't forget the paragraph please...

odd space new
face teeth eyes memories

and how to
reconcile?
the odd shimmer of spirits between
the used up
and the still yet
undiscovered

how do you jump
twice
without tugging the dentist's sleeve

to issue: fervent plea.

*Novocain?!

I need a place
an attic in my head
to go there
sit in the rose
coloured light
the golden hour of
my mind and watch the
willow tree
growing quietly next to
the brick
in the place
I am who I always was a
growing chrysalis
a changeling constant stasis bug
movement beneath crystal
flickers underneath the
ice
but it will be quiet still
and the door will be locked
and I will stay there not
to hide from
myself
but to flee the potential
for crisis
if I don't cross swords with
the inner speed demon
find my zen
and go to the
supermarket.

you're too young to know
[should be]
so how can [it be that] you feel  [felt]more
than me?

how could you have
lived so fast?
[already]
spent so much of
your precious essence?

already felt the cuts
that fate whipped across
your soft, powdery cheeks
[barely marred, maybe, by hair]

your hourglasses already
half spent
sand dribbled out strewn

like ash from
tipped onto the kerb
in a blaze of colour, sound and
mellow confusion
a dangerous sway and crush
[that I'll never understand]

how it could be
that

You've already all become
so Old.

or is it my life-
was it so different
A gift your generation
just missed

because Maleficent
got to
the party
Early.

quietness with the cats
by my elbow
blue-white computer light
the sound of the cars
out the window
holding me home
sweet air over
my shoulder
everything will
find its way.

and then I will
sleep.

Cellophane sits
On the edge of my
Teeth.
Stuck, see- through and
Set.
Feel the old sludge of the
past
Try to
Forget.

we walk alone
our heads down
our pens in meadows
that no one else
has ever explored

we look upward
eyes towards
cloud formations
only known to
giants and gods

If we cry
the water nourishes
our paper, fuels
our muse
and sprouts seedlings
from the hurt.

But when we
die, our page falls
silent.
And this is why
we must always
Keep On.

Keats,
This is For
you.

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.

Green for healing
unexpected glee
for the code words of couples

Hazel for quiet
for still moments
long fingers and outlines

Deep jade
rich rings for an iris
fringed veil and flash of white

Darker when
they see me
nearing our bed

Empty, for when
I left it,
turning quick on my heel

because I stopped seeing
what his
did.

****-
if you write
it...
They will come.

there were six
she was nine she
said mama don't
leave me down here
it's dark and
he's mean so
cold without a
pulse his
spirit pulling everyone
else down
go back tell
them I want to see
the flowers again.

I don't like you
sometimes.
I don't like me
either.
We're the same halves
of different stars
Or is it
the reverse?
I thought
I glimpsed something
in your face.
But no
It was just the
light.
My
Mistake.

I say goodbye to you often,
in letters and scribbled clouds, penned and hidden
under the keyboard on your desk.
tucked small and sleepy, as I pack in
your wake.

and just as frequently,
per month,
you greet with
wishful kisses, me teetering
unbalanced, off the escalator,
luggage strap, cold nose, bags dangling.

a myriad collection, sealed with "love you" texts,
taxi chits and spoon wrappers.
is this our way now?
our days, a matrimonial, cross-country conundrum.
a strung together , part time marriage,
intermittently stamped by the vested men,
marked by my travel clock,
wrapped in your worn out coat
and bolstered by the broken bed...

back to our separate hemispheres,
in such a hurry.

he is four legs
sees the world
by everyone's
knees.
a soft
saliva-coated
existence,
measured in pants.
governed by rough-hewn
kibble
Not sure I
would wish
reincarnation as a
dog.

Get out of my
head Oh, you Bandaid
Boy-

waking up
without
and there's no
warm barrier for
the wind.
the shell
of duvet, pillow
and sheet is
scentless,
soulless
and no
longer a haven
for my hours
without
you to
guard
me while
I rest.

being alone
is like breathing
when you think
about
focus on it
you can't quite
seem to do it
right
the breaths heave
in out, up down
jagged and alien
you don't get the
right saturation
the reflexive feeling
you temporarily forget
until distracted
you fall asleep
and your body takes over.
I-
I wish it was just
like that.
But it
it is not.

I want to
remember who I
was How
I was with you
with them
who I am
with me
Alone
all of you
and walking
on the sidewalk
at night
But I can't
seem to trace
in the blurs
the faces of
my many personalities
I can't
seem to connect the
dots, to find
the numbers that match
up to draw me
a full giraffe
with warm squishy
insides.
All I do
when I crack
myself open
is see a chocolate
cavern, filled with
not Easter eggs
or green fake
lawn but
empty
empty
air.

Prince of Shapes-
oh you hurtful
mystery,
living an illusion

flipped me around til my feet
were pointing up

closed off in doublethink how
on earth did I ever fall so...

"I wanted to touch your hair..."

"why?"

It was just...

your cheek seemed,
so sad,

without my hand.

it's pushing me
down this life
all the gravity
that shoves
shoved for almost
twenty five ...
am I?
quarter of a
century air
poundage
and I transfer
your pain
his pain
their pain
into my head
and can't even
help it
the weight I
can barely carry
on my own
I'll carry
yours too.
because that's
what I
always
do.

the loss was a slow ache
creeping in like ice fog
after the time for mourning
should have been tolled

a gravedigger clearing dirt
grain by grain
was this heart-
stalling on the burn

proclaimed problem-free to public ears-
cleared like dust
from a smooth pane of promises
lifted like prints
from the scene of a
victimless crime

now the key loses
its lock
trapping that moment,
forever

in this web of
practicality
that we signed.

who are you without someone
to remind you
that you exist?
Are you a tree in the forest
that will fall down
but be unknown
because no one caught you?
The trick to being invisible is
not to do anything noticeable
you fade in time. we don't really
properly look at people
to really see them
we flick over their faces
grab the bits of interesting information and
retreat back into ourselves
like foxes stealing
delicious eggs
then we move on.

Stuck in the 9-5 of Everyone
Else's life
My undiscovered dreams shelved
Luminous theoretical future
Kisses overflowing interlocked and
Delivered with promise
Transparent truthful question in
this Interim-

Is ' Happy' enough?

the thrill
of you races
over my skin.

two equals one
-say the words
then it's done.

we'll start
at the beginning
of  an uncharted board
game

the directions are fuzzy
but everyone's played
it.

so much better,
though,

than Monopoly, don't
you think?

I Do.

These are my hands
not yours.

You had them on loan
and I
am taking them back.

These were never;
your lips
your heart
your soul

But those were
your words

And now,
You've taken them
back too.

I left the trees
I have regrets...
especially when
upon sitting in
on the train,
when getting up,
I find that I am stuck.
stranger's chewing gum
on my ***
and your newspaper crumpled
around my shoe.
every day of the week.
If I left
I certainly wouldn't miss
that lingering scent of garbage
gasoline, and cigarette smoke...
but the shop
at the corner makes
such lovely drinks
the taste left in my mouth
tells me I will
definitely stay
awhile.

stepping beside myself
slipping sideways

leaving
my soul
by the fireside, to watch the
coals lose their heat

being a shadow that
only cats see

is that what it's like
to go to
Sleep?

Setting down the icier path, my steps are sure.
The moon, launch-lost, hangs a tentative smile in the fading blue.
I spy the unfolding future in my compass face and deem it wise.
Thusly determined to keep my heart aimed at the sky.
You already set your course, Dark One, away from this wilderness, and into the wind.
So.
Here is where We end, and I begin.

To the hand that slid to my shoulder
As you began to drift...
Since you've gotten there first-
May I love you in my sleep
As much you love me
In yours.

Too tall to
command the
world in
Napoleonic
fashion-
conclusion-
will
surely result
in some sort
of Complex.

hard and
soft the curves
of all of
you in
my memory
the different
lips I've
kissed, the
taste of spring
water.
pushed up
in the stalls
after school.
crammed,  
dark,  in
the car before
it turns
to morning
and the
memory of
irresistible fire
shooting  through
my legs,
is thin
and hollow
now that
the years
have covered
up the
feeling part
of my every-
-day- nerves
with an
awful gloss.

'be safe'
is a talisman we
carry with us when
we lack control

we 'touch wood' to
prevent the fall
of our skies.

look down, lest we
break our mother's backs

and pray
"Please God, don't let us
trip into
the
cracks"

we "don't worry" as
if it does

halt the thoughts

just like swearing on
the cross

I'm at the
last train station on
the line.

the trains here,
they turn around and
go back
no matter which
track you pick
they're both going
the same direction

I wonder if
I pick the left
train,
whether my ride will be
smoother.

are the seats softer
on the right?

if they go the
same direction,
is it the same
destination?

Parallel
to  converge later
and unite?

perhaps the
one time...

in Time...

that which
fork you take
really doesn't
matter at
all.

so instead of
being a dead end,
maybe it could be
construed as

a Miracle.

where on this bridge do
I rest?

poised over the water, rocks
reflecting their game up over
the rivulets

bubbles are cheap-
that's what she's said.

I hold your fingers between mine
carefully pinched, like a tattered butterfly wing

now the powder of my choice clings
I blow on it softly, unsure
asking it to disperse in the wind

where are your eyes?

what is this heart?


Who is my song?

balancing on the tops of trees, I
see everything, still,
in clarity, in the sharpsmooth confines
of my frustratingly stoic pre-frontal cortex

I sluggishly struggle through  the snarls and tangles
of my "emotional conundrums"
to quell the misfiring synapses still bouncing wetly within.
no pressure to focus
no tactile center to make it stop
the speeding car we nearly didn't miss
the feeling of this space
gently and dangerously adrift.

the shakes of a savior
who feels like a fool.

I  really didn't want
to have to skip school.

my fingers are bruised
left, inside contours, running along the point .

a dull smear of pain

accidental smudges
of my fragility are  just
there-
lightly traced
against my joints

outside injury
where did you come from?

either way,

now you match
the

ache inside.

'think what
you want to say

wait, til
you can say it right.'

so-
I
remember the exact wording
half asleep
around midnight

come 6am
more brilliant
in the blur
of something that

is not retrievable.

all the ones I forget

are covered in gold.

then it would seem-
I do my best writing in dreams.

I don't want to
be her again.
She was so
lost.  
And now,
Wild like a wind,
bashing against grass.
useless like weak rain.
Without her books
without her home
and very close
to losing her
heart.

I heard your voice on the radio
Today I
Knew I really should have kept
Away it's just the memory
Of  how it cracks.
Could almost forget what the
Real you-
Lacked.

step to the
edge
big evergreens
cedars
look strange from
on top
their scent wafts
smelling different
from on top
of a mountain
I know
that when I
fall it
isn't really
falling...
that in my
bed when
I land
my brain slams
back into the
pillow and my
body is safe
beneath the
blankets
but just in
case there
are air sharks
or sharp rocks
when I jump,
I will pinch
my nose.

manage the-
measure the-
beating worry
surging- the tickles
of dread I didn't
really Don't
welcome.
if I love you
and lose you in the daily...
that
fear of leaving you sleeping.
what do I do
when they really shut the door
and we're
cut off.
when I'm here
are you,
still there?
can my love -its
armor
is it strong
enough?
vs. the world
I worry.

you paint it
golden, you know...
Sun, good job
on that whole
deal. You turned this
ugly strip into
something more than
a mother could love.
and as it goes down,
taking those ugly
dishwater fluffs that
I am ashamed
to each call
Cloud, and setting them back
on the horizon with
sparkling amethyst slabs
decorating each city
window
I decide, Hey,
when you do your
job so,
beautifully the
day
is not wasted
And as long as
you keep bringing me
nights full
of stars
and a living earth
in the morning
Everything will
be just
fine.

a thousand
invisible lines
every time we
have to speak
don't fly out
of my fingers
"how...
are you?"
"are you...
eating"
Do you sleep?
Do you miss
anything about me?
all the words
that I can't slip
into your mental
pockets
no notes
with little
stars
stick figures
of cowboys
climbing door frames
I want to ask
about the ipod
I stashed under
the coffee table
but instead I
feel this leave
my lips
"yes,  Ok. It's
fine....
goodbye."
And just
like that I
backspace my
mind, delete
the syllables
and just try and
concentrate on
writing off
the way I'm
not supposed
to be feeling
about
you.

Everyone's in therapy.
Treatment for this-
Support for that-
Guidance for her-
Counseling for him.

As it turns out-
Life requires a jacket.
But for the people who help out,
And keep the others afloat-
How do they not drown?

title goes here
fingers go here

I fixed the sharp
you forced the flat
don't forget to
tighten the strap

hammer the note
bar it with a snap

but with
all these notes
clouding the air

I
can't hear
where we're really at.

I am the Autumn wind
blowing its way through...
Harsher than a broken
spring.
Tougher than the tightest trap.
And  even yet, Zephyr,
I still feel I've
failed
you.

again I wondered
what they saw...

how I don't
match.

the snowflakes in
my hair didn't
seem to melt and
my scarf dragged.

I felt strong
in these boots
but knew somehow
that I still
looked Weak.

But that
they didn't care
because the shades
of their own
worries stood
in their paths like
trees.

I ponder
why I keep fighting
other people's
giants.

I question
how it should
matter what
the outside
looks like

I conclude that
I do
because the
inside needs
so much ****
work that
it's a monumental
construction.

Like Noah's Ark.

Only there's no
way God is
going to ever
help me
with rounding up
that many
animals.

It's 1:15
you could be asleep
so I don't want to call-
and wake you

or maybe you're lying on your side,
restless.
imagining the quiet form of your
other part
while I sit in state
and do the same

our fingers waving over
the sides of our separate beds to grasp for
the phantom warmth from a month past-

one puzzle piece in the north
another in the City.
there are holes in our existences
that we  can't seem to fill
without both our shadows pressed together

I see our future-
the promise of colours,
jokes, clasped hands
and ***** dishes
So full and ready to be picked ripe
off the tree

but on the other side of the glass
the window's not yet
primed to be broken
Impatiently you hammer
perturbed, I tap.

'Please', I pray.
let them make spider cracks
so I can just
reach you
halt this nonsense,

and be with my Love
again.

Made you Breakfast Eggs, yolks pooling
Slipped into that Lucille ball coat.
I wear it well
Like Pretty Woman level.

But in the midst of
these folded clothes
Tangled toddler hair and budget restraints

late at night,
I watch over your troubled dreams, kissing demons away.
Yours always, but forever furled in my
Ultimate Soul

Lies a Wild gypsy Queen

I thought of the giants whom
I planned to conquer when
I'd reached an eligible age:

build a house out of my goals
furnish it with a child in white
rule by 28 with a future bright.

but now in the clearing of brinks and
cliffs, facing the threshold of the sum of
three decades.

I stand, with one boot unlaced,
mirror in hand
a deviant Janus.

I try to block
the bird, as she whispers "Close."

*Meet your knight
or meet the night.
but for love of god
walk a road, ANY road,

before it forks you over.