I've filled up
tubs
thimbles
there was an egg
cup but
I knocked it over
bone china
warm salty
water
and I still
can't make sense
of why
my eyes
won't
turn
off

and it is undone
plucked from the snow

with the glasses
of a rose
back on the bridge

I saunter on
til the next doubt
comes along
and tries to *****
my thumb.

The openness of concrete space
casts a trance
Caffeine sings its drying song
A sheen smeared thinly across
already unsure synapses

Purposes lost
sit and wait for the time inside to go somewhere-
To do
Nothing

Hum of the machine
Touch of the sun
Cup
And a view, productive.

Liars,
all.

45 minutes to go and-
their kisses are
ours.
I can't look I
know,
but my eyes follow
and seek like hot stones.


I feel their stories-
their
distances stretching-
the burden of
their own loves sinking into
my chest on top
of the open chasm
left by predawn at greyhound.

I hate every time
I have to
say it. I
crave the return
so so so so so...

Stop.


Dear Soul Anchor,
leave me in the Hall-

but be my port
cover my heart
with an oilcloth

so that somebody
else's farewells
will no longer
leak in.

This storm of
our own,
is Heavy Enough.

sharp lines work their  way
through my veins
run the labyrinth to my heart-
a spiky, futile, mercurial art.

where I dance in spirals unknown
pondering the number of steps down from my throne
crown of thorns, I'd never wear
rather, I dare Delilah to cut my hair.

plucked at the web, spoke you your lies
Atruistic voice, the most formidable disguise
my chameleon dance done, Exit Stage Left,
Dear little Psyche, still on the run.

'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.

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?

there's a door
I ignore it at night.
I can see the shadows
slipping underneath it
to some unknown place where
grabby things are living
and biding their time
til opportune, they can
****** me.

when all the lights are off
I am in the quick scuttle
to my bedroom, cellphone aloft
for the tiny blue glow
that will protect me
from monsters
unless they are in
the air, materializing in my
lungs to scare me from
the inside out.

and even when I
have ducked fully under
the covers of my bed
I lie, flat, rigid. No
breath, in case dark things
folded and slithering underneath
my clothes, in the
drawers, or twined
around the hangers
can see the movement
and take the opportunity
of me captive in my
bed,

to pounce.

if your hands were there,
I would hold them.

if I could just back up off
this ledge
and look you in the eye.

there's a cat on my arm
she purrs, filling my limbs
with her side by side
love
little nose tickling
my wrist

they see me cry,
you know.
the four footed beings
who watch me fall apart.

it's sometimes good, I think
that they don't speak.
I don't want the pity
of things
with whiskers.

I don't even know who
to pray to anymore

It almost seems like an
insult to ask You,

when you're watching us
burn our world to
bits.

So.
Universe, I guess you are
holding the cards now...

There are so many volcanoes,
all burning Rome.

I suspect even without my feeble
wish,

You have burdens enough.

underneath me
my metal river flows still

these are my scars
and you will not take them
away

I used to long
for an eraser

now I will slash at anyone
who will slash at me

double strike them
remove the metal

but you can't remove
the memory.

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 see you in myself
in the way that your bones
are completely different and
the same as mine

I make your mistakes
in my future
and I made your decisions
in the past

and where you are the opposite
we are the same
uneven twins
upside down we are matched
mirrored and shaken in our
own steps
that even jive.

when we fall.

but are mirrored
in even greater synchronicity,
in endless silver halls
when we win.

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.

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.

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.

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

but nobody will want me, she said
I am the purple duckling.
My feathers curl to the wind
My eyes, they roll like marbles
in the sun.
My feet walk backwards
to the beach to look for
glass instead of fish.

Who will take me in,
not to rip away my feathers
for fluff and blankets
but to hold me
in their laps and
treasure my wings like
jewels?

My pack is all green-wearers.
their beaks a matching row.
they left me under the
Ash tree and said
She'll never grow.

But if I hold up my candle
to the inscription that
is written on my fading
dignity
hope it will say;
Purple is also the colour
of strength and
royalty
not just eggplants and shells.
so roll their barbs off
your back
and  some
day you too, will
find your
Rightful Pond.

Fed sugar lumps to the horses but-
They kicked them out of my hands.

Ran away and left me cold.

Maybe I tried to love them too-
Fast.

I hate it
when I lock the
door and you
take that pick
and set it
right in the
center of that band-aid
bit that I keep covering
I told you once
that I let you
in.
but that it's
not  for many
people.  Don't.
so now
that you're
back in the cold
best to get a sweater
because little red just
can't tell the wolf
from grandmas
anymore.

all I wanted was
your love.
now all I have

is your love

well played,
Fate.

smoother sailing
is the promise-
And the
Explanation,
The be all,
The Balm, salve, or
solution.

"I didn't mean to"
sometimes they did.
sometimes they didn't.

But I have no,
no real way,

to explain gravely
enough-
that in the real world
sometimes Sorry
just can't
doesn't
won't

cut it.

Night and day melt in
A cycle of paradoxical yin
And yang
Up is down,
Sideways is wrong
And stopping is the fear of
Speed
The struggle is the
Map when searching for a
Key that you didn't want
to Need.

I walked in, careless,
to my ankles.
It seemed all right.

the water licked smooth,
around my lower bones.
the tickle of cold
the bump of rocks
silty sand,
squishing up into
the spaces around my arch.
another step, and the pull.
the tease of the tide, lap-lapping
like a hungry feral kitten at found milk.
the snickering of the current
told little lies to my calves
about the depth and its strength
seducing and tugging.
Comecomecomecomecomecomecome
I looked upriver. Dark sunk
into the trees.
Crows sailing up, over the line of evergreens.
Solid.

I awoke suddenly from my murky forward-trance.
Halting my progression.
In over my knees.
Violently chilled.

Clarity dissolved upon my senses,
Remembering my native element,
I spoke my rejection to the  liquid Rake.

'This is not my place.
as long as I have breath.
and I will not lie with you upon your bed.
You have no thumbs, for coffee,
you have no heart for truth, although
secrets, of this, I am sure you hold, many.
No mouth for reading,
and trust-
I already have circling my finger,
and am tied in my heart, to one with eyes and lungs.
Some marry the sea, but I have married a Man.'

So I placed my heel behind my shoulder,
yanking hard against the rules of the moon,
up-tripping
backwards across sudden boulders.

Feeling the sick squirm of a game
almost lost,
a hallucination perhaps of-
the gurgle of a defeated laugh
chasing me back to the bank
I pushed away.

On the  shore, damp-dry grass of another month
lay beneath my feet

The River showed me shimmering calm.
nature just nature again-
a  vast. sleeping creature with no possible interest in Eve. but
From the droplets of water on my legs dripped a separate truth.

I turned away from the leaves and fish.
drying and donning shoes.
And went all the way back
a Flower still,
to The Land.

trapped in
vanity
mirrored by
humanity
lacking the
sanity
to classify
pacify my
inner demons
my mind is
screaming
protect it
reject it
lose face
respect it
solemnly
promising
to not lose
sight of
the honest
me. honestly
these rhyming
rap songs
on at work
are getting
to me.

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.

As your last greens fade and red comes to your lips
as your fingers grow sharp and papery
and your ribs rattle in the wind
and the squirrels begin the escape to your belly
I will come with my lantern and my cloak and set your children free
we will soar on the warmer currents we will kiss frost goodbye. i
welcome our Fall.
For it is the time- living and dying time
when I finally get to fly.

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 know I ask all
the time, but
do you get
sick of my scent?
of my small hands
because they are
not larger?
Do you mind that
my lips are not
soft like chapstick
models in the
shiny magazines?
If my chest grew
melons, or a pine
tree
dates, an almond
plantation or
28A
would you hop
a plan to a
more beautiful land
and plant a
statue there?
I'm only questioning
your motive because
when I see you
I wonder if
you
Actually.
Truly.
meant to
choose a
person,
like me.

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?

you will never
know and yet,
neither shall I,
what bruises  the wind makes
or the sorrows we
hide-

the skin shields we hold
the bone arrows we forge
for ourselves, by our kin
or the world at large.

So it is vast, and it is wide
it is small, it is fair
but I have no glass
nor other magic means
by which to
take you there.

when I go
I will pull the shades down
fill the moat
with the requisite
piranhas
I will put on my
Alone
stare
and cup our little
glowing moth
in my palm
and whisper
to it
whenever
I'm sad.

Sometimes I feel it in my feet, a ripple
A puddle, then a pond
Windstorm rushing up my throat
Hurricane around my neck

Empathy Coat, wear me well

Sometimes there
Isn't-
A right way to live to
Do.

We beat our bones against
The rock
We hurt our hearts saying we
Deserve this.
We swim up a negative stream.
It's a channel I know well-

Yet False, I say.

A spark- it's all you have.

Small butterfly- save your wish.

It's not too late.

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.

waiting
for you...
I should
get a
better watch.
because this
one doesn't
tell me things
I wanna hear.
like
"he's never
coming
back".

there's this place
on my arm that goes
"swish"
It's the bit without
nerves where
the metal lies.

if I was bionic
and my heart
were made of steel
I'd be indestructable

but
then I
wouldn't be able
to  feel.

slipping gravel grains
through my fingers
bits caught sly, in the creases
briefly.    but this
sandbox-
it's just a
garden for fools.

even the
arm of a
stranger
would be
could be
better than
the *** of
sheets that
isn't warm
not alive
just a sock
that slipped
out of the hamper
that isn't a hand
strewn over
mine, or
the pants carelessly
swung off the
side of
the bed
instead of
a hot foot
twined around
my ankle keeping
me anchored
to something
carnal
or real
to keep me
from floating
away.

it's not often that once is Only
and that last is really the End.

forever is only a little
and goodbye is "in theory."

starts and stops are just in the heart.

memories are in the mind.

and the choice is in my hands.

Is there anything to be said for being lost
or imperfect?
should we still sip from vessels with flaws?
Am I able to accept that it is I who dropped the glass?
and watch the cracks spiderweb
into the hearts of the people who hold me?
I call foul.
from the bottom of this mud pit
my voice floating...
'Looks like you're going the wrong way, Dorothy.
best to just stop juggling
crystal *****.'

I don't write them anymore
I say I've lost my words
But in truth, they never left
Bubbling under the surface of my lips
Like sweet blisters of hope, confusion and rancor
I am really [only] a living dictionary
My thoughts like a river
My mouth like a hose
But you always say stop.
So they just sit, drying up
While I breathe through my nose.

I'm standing here and banging on this locked door that won't open.
I'm staring through the keyhole and it's black.
No light, I can't see a ******* thing, anything.
And if there's anyone on the other side,
they're not talking.
It's only a matter of time til my mind goes away.
Parts of it are going to start flaking of. Bit by bit.
Why do I keep having dreams that you're dead?
I can't see anywhere in my future. It's just like looking through  distorted peach coloured glass. There's nothing behind it, nothing visible.
Your shoes by the door, your books on the table.
Pieces of you that can't talk to me, can't hold me, can't fix anything or answer my questions.
I can't have a conversation with a blanket.
I can't get comfort from a pillow.
I don't remember your face because it's pixelated.
It doesn't feel fair that we have to choose who we choose.
I know there are a lot of things I can't control. But I'm losing control over the things that I can.
At least when I was completely alone, I had the option of changing that.
Now I'm alone even when I'm with a million people.
The comfort that they can offer, isn't comfort that I can take.
I know you're not fighting in a real war.
I know you're fighting your own personal battle, with soldiers I can't sway.
Ones I haven't even met, and maybe won't ever meet.
I can't plan our future because I don't even know if we had one.
I even knew that before we started, and I jumped anyway,
because who thinks when what's spread out before them is so beautiful.
You just close your eyes and go, because it seems right.
I don't want to feel guilty for feeling the way I do. When I enjoy things, when I don't enjoy things.
I don't want to feel stupid for missing you when you haven't been away for years. When I actually have someone who may some day come back.
What if you don't come back.
What if you do.
I don't know what my choices are anymore.
Because the screen doesn't answer me.
And you can't kiss a wall.

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.

I'm crawling to the ceiling
with my eyes.

No don't look-
I can't stand it.

Even a stranger who
brushes my elbow makes
me shy away.

I belong in
my own bubble
of Strange.

it started
as a crumb
a shining
thorn in the
side of my finger
and grew
til abruptly,
on the bus
I looked around
unable to
breath.
startled
because
the memory of
you had suddenly
lifted heavily
away
from my
shoulders.

I sit by myself
My feet fit in the space
behind the rows
my boots feeling
the stick of leftover
pop
residue of someone else's
night out.
when the blue and black
of this giant space
comes up and the
sound invades the air
around my shoulders
I settle
and let the thinness
of fake light
triumphant music
and the emotions
of beautiful
sociopathic creatures
fix and fill
the holes and
crannies in
the road of
my lonesome
soul.

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 stood on
the pavement feeling
drunk with the awareness
of too many hours
the manhole cover
cold and soaking through
my feet into
tiny
bird bones I
bruised as a child
running down
steps too fast.
and I was standing so
slowly, in my
memory the world
spun around me
with the trees, the
yellow early morning
light, green traffic
signs and all
silent on the street
another world
another year
and no way
to go back
and see it
again.