dandelions
I sail to you through the great unknown
And tip toe on your white lines of gray matter
An acidic, atomic baby light blonde
  with a heart of stone trapped in a yellow rain cloud  

dandelions
In the syndicate of the hazel night moon
I smell their broken stems of wire
Wrapping my thighs in a sealed cocoon
Dancing in a brimstone fire

Melting in the midnight winds

dandelions
She can’t wait to roam free tonight
Feel the air flow between the thistle of my thyme    
And find her midtown morphine  
To soothe the demons, dancing in her mind

dandelions
Dispersing on a front porch swing
I scatter in the wisp of an ivory snow
Break a rhyme scheme, scream for rain
Pray for laughter,  bleed for growth

I can still see you and your Crowne Royal sitting on your throne after drowning in the tequila sunrise you left behind yesterday morning
You are my home, you are my salvation
You are my hell, you are my damnation
And I realize I can’t heal you.

It’s March now and you’ve been drowning in your sorrow for ten months, praying she can keep you from reaching the bottom of your bottle
She is your home, she is your salvation
She is your hell, she is your damnation
And she realizes she can’t heal you.

She isn’t like the woman you’re used to
She doesn’t have that plump, patient, strawberry smile and wide eyes with a wolf howl in her throat
She doesn’t have that serenity and solitude, walking out of the kitchen with Tennessee whiskey and dried up roux on her apron towards her white Pickett fence, reminiscing on the days when the walls were made of barb wire

She doesn’t have her freedom when she roams, barefoot in nothing but your long ***** flannel as she calls the babies in for supper, kicking up red Georgia clay towards the Milky Way sky

But she’s a somebody
She’s a somebody with her long, fake eyelashes curled up towards the ceiling and her plumped up lips with a price tag on her Cupid’s bow

She’s a somebody who’s hair falls flat in the morning, and even though she doesn’t know what it’s like to pull twigs out of her curls when she wakes up after dancing around with you in the barn at three o clock, laughing in whispers so her babies don’t hear her

I love her

And I hope that she at least believes she can heal you
And I hope that I at least believe she can heal you
And I hope that one day, you reach your hands up to heaven and remember what it’s like to hold the heart of God on a Sunday morning, and be forgiven

And I hope that you’ll believe that he can heal you
Because he is our home, he is our salvation
He is our hell, he is our damnation
And one day, I know he will heal you.

We met on the corner of Saxon and 95 south
During one of those nights I was crawling out of my anaphoric daydream
I was a broken down bride in my sheets of white linen
When  I noticed the light in your eyes were as dull as mine
When the moon sculpted a mirage in the center of your ashtray
When you told me you needed me to stay a moment longer
I traded you a Chevy ride for a song of sweet surrender
As you blessed the burning willows that bled through my black and mild soul
Firing the sparks inside of me that had never seen a flame  
As I drowned in a carcass of rapids that never seemed to lay still
I reached into my lillies and pulled out a candle
To lighten your vision until you reached home
Until you were strong enough to love her again
And you thanked me with a smile and a tank of gas
I drove until midnight, staring at the moonlight
listening to the sighs of my breathe against the wind
And the sweet little woman who lives inside of my bones  
Reminds me of the way old Georgia worshipped my vines
I chose to abandon his comfort and wisdom
For the freedom of white lines on an open road
And while it soothes me to see him settle without me
I can’t help but wonder if I’ll always be a withdrawn vagabond
With my toes in the sand, with my head in clouds
Writing lines in a blank verse of commitment.

A freak and fruitful flower
I twirled in a frantic field of dandelions
The roots felt like the bald skin crawling on my bones
as they ****** the sunlight off of the structure of my stems
With the wisdom that the asphodels would find out
About the moment I planted myself in a hurricane last summer
He asked me to stay until the lilies grew back
Then his garden began to grow inside of me
during the spring time, and I think I must have drowned
Or maybe it was Autumn, when I found my piece of mind
I sat still long enough to allow myself to stay
If I refused to swallow the worms who ******* my tongue
If I was pure enough to drink the poison out of my vines
In a diligent essence of dignity, I might have tried
but in a clear perception of reality, I realized
I would always remain
A freak and fruitful flower
Same as I was, same as I ever would be.

Coming back into my body

Every inch of flesh  

Building on my bones

Strong enough to run

Strong enough to dance

Strong enough to smile

Strong enough to laugh

Looking in the mirror and seeing myself again

Through clear, hazel eyes with blue on the brim

And I think to myself

My reflection is beautiful

My reflection is clean

My reflection is calm

My reflection is kind

My reflection is me

And I love my crooked smile

And I love my tiny waist

And I love my sweet hips

And I love my big heart

And the way I laugh

It’s like God is blessing my body
with a thousand kisses
every time someone tells a joke

When I feel myself

Coming back into my body

And even if I’m just some ***** headed, cherry sipping, Coca Cola drinking wildflower

Even if I’m just someone’s woman,

Someone’s daughter, someone’s sister, and someone’s friend

I can feel myself

Coming back into my body

Where I am free

Tonight I’ve felt the switch go off fifteen hundred times

Swinging like a pendulum, crawling through the vines

I spoke in tongues of laughter in the fields of chlorimine

My bones are broken bruises as i'm missing you as mine

But I don’t want to go back to you.



I look up at squinting blue eyes in an autumn meadow

Stare at the widows in the aquamarine sky

I’m tired of it’s blinding rays
I'm tired of begging myself to be

More stable

More subtle

More sweet

Like a Valencia picture tacked up on to a cardboard wall

When I’m cracking around the edges

Of being the woman who I’m not again



I think I’ll just cry tonight

Through the cravings of my mania

On fascination street

******* and alive

Singing by the ocean

Trying to survive

I think I’ll just die tonight



They always leave me when I’m silent

Swerving on the highways

wild and fragile

Fading in to outer space

Losing track of time  



Tonight I’ve felt the switch go off fifteen hundred times

Swinging like a pendulum, crawling through the vines

But I don’t want to go back to you.

He knows me by my first name

The boy who works at the drugstore

near the end of the street.

When I shovel out the crumbled twenty from my left pocket
he doesn’t even bother to say


Will that be all-
Or
Which pump are you at -


His simple smile spreads across his face,

And he calls me by my first name-

I am no longer the girl at the drugstore

near the end of the street.