I want to
write words
in hasty brush
strokes,
-messy yet
precise and
in its right
place- smear
and blend two
words into one
to create new
hues

How can I
paint a
poem?

How does
one display
indefinance
with definite
things?

I buy how-to books on a lot of things
How to cook
How to clean
How to host a dinner party

I know how to love
and how to make 3 cheese lasagna
and how to remove stains
But I do not know how to hate

I wish I had a book
on how to loathe people who hurt me
Written for dummy's
or by Martha Stewart

You hurt me.
But I cant hate you.
For I don't have a book on how to be mad
at you.

And so I will never learn.
Because I will forever
and I will always
be in the wrong.

shy stutter of a thought
scurrying across rough rock and diving
headfirst into cold white water
so as not to be heard, unlike
the wilted sigh from pinched lips
that draws eye contact then breaks it
like waves upon those stones

syllables soft and jumping
through valleys, over jagged mountains
just to reach ears clouded
with assumptions and a failing effort
to tune it all out
skinny fingers gripping a skull
through wild, upset hair
hands coming to rest uneasily
within each other, still shaking from the strain

or maybe it's the cold that cuts edges
into my shoulders, ties the laces tighter across my back
pinching me into place as i twist inside
looking away a thousand times, and trying
but i cannot unwind, i cannot open myself
to you

How I wish I had two lives.
One to live to the fullest,
and the other to sleep away.

The party tonight should be good
I wonder if you'll be there
No, probably not
What's this fly doing in here?
I wonder what purpose a fly serves.
Does he know he'll die in 24 hours?
I hope so.
The sound of this washing machine is rhythmic
1, 2, 3, 4,
1, 2, 3, 4,
See, dirt, no, more,
Fresh, clean, for, me
1, 2, 3, 4...
Where's the five?
A five should be here
why is there no ******* five?
Oh well, back to the poem...
1, 2, 3, 4...
Are you thinking of me?
Do you miss me as much as I miss you?
I wonder if you'll just appear under the strobe lights
So I can make your face out
Through the screen of hallucination
Tonight
1, 2, 3, 4
This fly is still here
I hope he tries jousting with the ceiling fan
1, 2, 3, 4,
My, heart, is, torn,
Walk, through, my, door,
1, 2, 3, 4
I, am, so, high,
Lo-sing, my, mind
1, 2, 3, 4...

She spent days building ice castles in the sun
He spent days trying to light fire to his house in the rain.
She drank coffee laced with poison to nurse her soul back to health
He took tablets of visions so he could hide from himself.
And when they met the fires thrived
the poison killed
and the visions overcame
and the ice castles turned
to puddles

I look for god in the city's view
I look for you
In my heavy perfume  
Put on lipstick
To kiss
Straws and glass
I'm not afraid of spiders
Or liars
Or cheats
I fear what meets
Me in the dark alley ways
And caves
Of my mind

Elegant fingers
I created from nothing
Or something
A stranger said to me
Long ago
Zip down the zipper
Look chipper
They say that's best
I'm not like the rest
Hardly worth the time
It takes to consider
If you'll stay
They say
The good thing is
The bad thing is
Everything is fleeting.
Everything is bliss.