being alone is a funny thing

as i read i
can hear him reciting
bluebird and white-hot agony
boring everyone, even himself

but i’m listening
he makes it easier
to cope with the fact that
i am a Nobody

he wrote it down for me
and for that i am eternally grateful
i want to thank him, buy him a drink
or something

but then i look up
and i remember that he is
a dead man
and, unfortunately,

i am not

I have spilt again
I am sorry, but
These white walls are not helping
These white walls
Have poisoned me
So I turned them red again

Red like the undersides of my eye
Lids, I’m bottled up so they can’t see me and
I can’t see them because
I’d rather see red than
Her brown hair or her blue eyes
Red like the back of my throat

Would I call myself a hero?
Because I like the color red
Because red stings and burns holes
In my sleeves
And the taste is sharp
And it smells like tin

And the sound is almost dead
And it feels just like home
Would I call myself a hero?
Because I break my skin
Now that my heart’s turned blue
What’s next?

“Who are you fighting for?”
I don’t need to say and
You don’t need to know
I
Don’t
Know

I don’t need to say
And you don’t need to know
That at first
I was satisfied
But now
I’m exhausted

I hope my words are new to them
Maybe it’s selfish to wish
I was the only poet
And that if your words make them cry
Mine will break them in two

Machiavellian, I suppose
Subtle aggression through figures and lines
That say so little
Spaces hypnotize them, now I have an army
Maybe it’s unkind of me, a bit territorial

Life imitates art
But maybe it’s just the opposite
Art is animal
Art is bare
And creation is the backbone of survival

i look up at the grey film of sky
there’s no light to make my eyes
look like anything other than ***** snow
open my mouth
let the snowflakes melt on my tongue
a tear falls from my eye
but freezes halfway down my cheek

i take off my coat, my shoes
shelterless
and i stand still
frozen in film noir
the wind whispers frigid nothings in my ear

sun tries to make his way
through cloud’s bleak winter parlor
to warm my rosy face
and chase the snowflakes in my hair
away
she will not let him
ha, they must be fighting

but i don’t mind
thank you sun
for your consideration
but i don’t think i can get any colder
than this

i write erratically now
        if my poems had heartbeats
                                                    they’d murmur

           they’d whisper to me
tell me to stop looking around so much
                       and focus on a something or

            a someone
                  to create with my words
      but I can’t help it

                        there are too many beautiful
                   and terrible things
    this world holds too many metaphors

    i am afraid i will never find them all before i go
                                         so i cannot stay still
                        i write erratically now

You ruptured the pattern, you know
Your spontaneity
Your free verse
Became my routine
Then, just like you pushed your way
Into my heart
Something pulled you out of it
After you played with the strings
And made music

Now I have to go back to
The way things were before
Without you
And try to ignore the fact
That my heart now beats
To your song
Whenever I think of you
******
It’s catchy

When I wake
Please give me a kiss
On my forehead

When I wake
Let’s make coffee together
And dance around in our underwear

When I wake
Can we make
Blueberry muffins?

When I wake
Can you still
Be here?

cherubs
with their little wooden smiles
blessed
but where is my heaven?

cherubs
with their little wooden smiles
i ask them to pray for me
but they don’t love me

they’re just
firewood kids
waiting to be charred
just like me

These poems
Devoid of
Metaphor
No tiptoe
Around emotion
With talk of
Trees
Flowers
And eyes as blue as oceans
Just
Bare feeling
These poets
Cry out their words
Sing their sonnets
These poets
Feel too much sometimes
Or maybe
I just don’t feel enough

The angles
Of your body
Intrigue me so
I want to solve you

I want you
To write
On my arms
My legs

My back
My face
With your lips
Make me your journal

When we
Wake the next day
I no longer want
To be me

When we
Wake the next day
I want to be
Your idea

The moon watched me tonight
As I shivered and cried
And got myself lost in a city
I had never set foot in before
It watched me

I wanted the light to help
But I felt dark
Even under its gaze
It whispered too softly for me to understand
I don’t know what it was trying to tell me

I’m home now
Safe in bed
And the moon writes with light
Through my open blinds
It’s a language I don’t understand

I hope it was something nice
Something that would help me
Keep my head above water
Please
Please tell me that I’m good

Tonight is when I stopped
As you turned to fire
And scorched me
And told me to shut up
I turned to ash and fell

“I’m sorry”
The clock chimed twelve

Sorry was the wrong answer
I watched you turn to stone
Looking at me through a
Blind man’s eyes
The wallpaper began to peel

I said nothing
I said nothing

I love you
You don’t want me to speak
But I love you
You’re warning me
I love you

Do you want me
I will never speak again

So watch me stay silent
No whispers no breath
Watch the clouds in my eyes
As the tears stream down
And melt me into the dirt

I cry
It looks like rain