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 Apr 2019 handsinspace
I haunt the shadows of your thoughts

My nails rip from their beds
clawing sanity
just trying to climb out of
my feelings

my fight leaves breadcrumbs
but light causes shadows
even in the brightest smile

and while I prefer the shade
...or used to

I churn to life in that place where
my ebb meets your flow


You haunt the shadows of my thoughts

You run non-stop
floating on surface tension
knowing the pit is hollow just seemed easier that way

My kindness
as comforting as it is cruel
in the shadows behind a smile
that blinds me

It feels like magic
where your ebb meets my flow

Float on that surface tension
I'll wait in the hollow

It's hard to move when we
neither run nor chase
 Jan 2019 handsinspace
kept to myself on silent hill
where grasshoppers used to frolic

eyes that spy don't realize
like-minds in wooden boxes
read their own would be actions

can't rationalize honesty
different strokes in choices projected
pandering in placating platitudes

never did learn how to turn polite
into untruths earning respect
through coddling flattery

backscratchers are unnecessary
when you don't count numbers
to feel worth a ****

broken beautiful even in cracked truth
taken as is wholeheartedly
but wholeheartedly never fit
into wooden boxes

where people polish egos
and truth reads like what you want to hear
unspoken expectations cultivate disappointment

caring is never pretty when it's real
honesty, with no lies, is hard to look at
in reflections of things one tries to bury

it's the beginning of trust that scrounges
for reasons to doubt
running into cradling arms

far from the unknown feeling of acceptance
where bones are broken beautiful
and scars are proof you won the battle
 Jan 2019 handsinspace
discolored snapshots
breathe life into memories with blurred edges
unabated joy in thoughts of, "forever will feel like this"
Silver Bells tasted like pine boughs and cinnamon

she built home out of air
filling lungs with life that made love
into the root of all things beautiful
ragtag Charlie Brown trees, the most beautiful of all

Fall fell hard and the trees died too
lights and empty gestures, for the sake of children
eyes clenched in prayers that, "forever won't feel like this"
breathing in the smog of auld lang syne

can't save what couldn't be saved
sometimes things end without ending
love in seedlings or old oaks still scorch a heart
Silver Bells in saline reminders of nothing feels familiar

stomped into submission beneath icy indifference
short breaths feel alive in crystal shards that penetrate lungs
when they try to break free from truth
normal in stifled emotions where a toothy grin pretends it's elation

Silver Bells smile without a voice to jingle in
and snapshots prove happiness is possible...or was--once
believing that angels walk with us
teaching us how to make love into the root of all things beautiful

maybe, "forever, we can try to build home out of air"
auld lang syne - /ôld laNG ˈzīn,ˈsīn
    noun - times long past

 Dec 2018 handsinspace
The sun beats a dead horse through a desert of lies
the only oasis is 44 ounces of pure bliss
cooling the essence from within
There is no greater comfort, no greater satisfaction

On the hottest summer day
life drains out of the chalice of joy
Its remnants still cold against my lips
burning into my being the memory of it

Empty and discarded the heat rises
Once again roaming and rummaging through the day
searching endlessly for the reality to match the memory
a world of imposters pretending they are worthy

Trying to believe that contented equals happiness
Disappointment lies empty at the bottom of the bin
Left to wander in search of that purity of bliss
For there is no greater comfort, no greater joy
nothing else comes close to the real thing ;)
 Oct 2018 handsinspace
Millenia a moment
wishes on all the starfish in the ocean
wouldn't make Wilcox happy in love

Indivisible divisions
infinite wisdom where math and science
will never meet God

Did science create a universe or simply define it?
Where beginning meets end in pinpoints of minutia
that by definition and design will never actually meet

Cradle me in your arms for nanoseconds
each holding an eternity
If only time could be held by more than mere memory

Maybe, everything until the now that is never the now
can touch a moment
that can never be broken into its smallest parts
 Sep 2018 handsinspace

melted ice cream afternoons
bogged down

rising from asphalt
in magical mist
that transforms
the day into
a test of endurance

even dusk offers
no solace
in frozen watermelon bliss


smoke permeates fabric
hair and every surface
with peace and grit
wafting over
the crispy
edges of predawn

begging sleep
to the most stubborn

rotisserie style dreams
till morning


there's less death today
waiting in line
in candy store nightmares
begging silence
from the jubilant

but the sky turned up
a dream state

in that beguiling beauty
is brilliance


in shadows
the earth falls silent

rustling through
tall tales
the moon births

images in hidden corners

evening strolls
turn adventures

and every day
burns quick
to be reborn slowly


the weight of hell
in short tempered bites
**** will with a proficiency
unseen outside
a viper's silent hunt

ready for war
with fists losing

breaking triple digit


Incessant banging through walls built faster than I am strong enough to demolish, cradling lace so it won't rip on my forked tongue. There is only so much care left to handle perception just trying to breathe through a smile.
 Sep 2018 handsinspace
Empathy removed concern
as it walked out of the room
drop by drop
the edges of love blurred

everything looks like pain
as rocks turn tumbleweeds
basking in the warmth
of unspoken words

left in despair
dragged under the beast
blindsided by action
inaction and retrospect

no part of love is hate
no part of love is hate
no part of love is hate

deleted from afterthoughts
all that's left is black-filled space
where there was once no question
that love exists
On my darkest day
when I could no longer hold myself up
you walked away
as I hit the ground
 May 2018 handsinspace
The cicadas were chirping
(or maybe screaming)
moments ago.
It was a nice sound,
if bittersweet.

This morning I said
“summer mornings are nice.
I never enjoy them as much as I should.”

I did today and and I want to now.

I don’t want to spend the last day of summer
in my room,

Saying I’m doing something
but really,
all I do in here
is wait.
 May 2018 handsinspace
the sky today reminded me of my mind when i’m with you.
It was clear, periwinkle-blue with lazy clouds that take place
like my half-formed thoughts around you.
You are the sun,
and I’m the sky wrapping around you.
My thoughts wander,
but you are my core.

The weather changes,
from rain to thunder to snow to fog,
but you remain
throughout it all.

The rain shows me the reality,
the thunder is the qualms of our friendship,
the fog clouds my brain when we’re pressed together on the couch.
the snow was when you fell asleep on me that one time, and I could have stayed there
slightly uncomfortable but too much in love to care.

But the rain sobers me up from your intoxicating elixir,
the rain is your ‘girl’,
the rain is my insides melting, melting, melting.
And yet the clouds still clear,
the rain still dries
and the sun still shines
whenever you’re near.
Also written two years ago.
 Apr 2018 handsinspace
trapped beneath a fitted rubber sheet
a lump in the mattress
suffocating on
rancid latex sweat
and yesterday's dried fluids

who were they
the nameless in the dark
this one smelled of popcorn
that on howled in delight

a collage of senseless noise
scented by cats and Ajax
leftovers always go bad

in the tree by the window
it must be after midnight

though noon looks the same
in this cage that gives just enough
to torture with possibilities
of breaking free

freedom is overrated
roses stain glass
with the bloodletting
of thorny mishaps

blurred by smeared wounds
ain't life grand
when love ceases to be a goal

how can one find what is
utterly indefinable
if it cannot be decisively named
it cannot be concretely attained

then again, love's fluidity
is its charm
no hard edges
ebbing and flowing
elusive and longing

**** me latex blind
unseen and used
by those who never did mind
a lumpy mattress
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