If people were rain,
I was drizzle,
and she was a hurricane."

Maybe I am one, a hurricane.
Inside I crave the peace and serenity
Granted to mid-morning drizzles
Falling gently on side walks,
But I cannot calm my dark,
Repetitive, abrasive thoughts enough
To bring in and accept my
Yearning for some quiet.

I can never stay anywhere,
With anyone,
For too long.

"I need to go. I need to get out of here."*

But, with you,
I forget time.
I feel open and vulnerable.
I just want to stop it all,
And just be happy.

Is that alright?

why do i hope when all i know is disappointment
why do i live when all i feel is loss
why do i love when all i see is failure
why do i dream when all i sense is deterioration

Post Office:
Telegrams and Telephones

Tell me how the snow is where you are.

Traffic cones outside, must-be-done road works completed by no one nowhere men,
patched up walls clad in grit painted cream
shutters the same, shutting out the screams.

Graffiti bridges, restaurants on ridges-
river's rising fast, finish your entrée
let's leave.

Walk linking arms looking upon                                    
glimpses of brick, of an old home,
lived in years ago by someone unknown.

squeeze you to read you,
the pores that pour out hidden punctuation
that defines and makes and creates pauses for
you to look beautiful in.

there are two velux windows somewhere
in the world that look out onto chimney pots
and rooftops and birds next to each other looking
out over a flight plan that they'll fly together.

in pub seats we'll slide into and across,
placing coats on empty chairs so not to be stolen
and you pause. And out comes a list from behind a breath and a
colon: everything you wish to achieve in a year.

There was an Old Man of New York,
Who murdered himself with a fork;
But nobody cried
Though he very soon died,--
For that silly Old Man of New York.

Your lips are calloused
from smoking that entire pack of cigarettes

My liver is screaming
from all of that alcohol

My hair is grown now
almost to my shoulders in the back
if i pull on it

Maybe it was time for a change
*or maybe I'm just changing so the old me doesn't have to miss you

Hello? Where are you?
Each day I lose more of you,
a part of me.
Pieces float right on by,
and I never catch them.
I miss that person,
so alive and outgoing.
But she's gone now,
hiding somewhere deep within,
trying to claw her way out from underneath
all the loneliness and pain.
Hello? Where are you?
Each day I lose more of you,
a part of me.