I have never woken up and felt so **** alone.

i guess i got wings inked on my shoulders,
because i think i’m some walking talking
stumbling
paradox.
one day i’ll fly away,
but crash into buildings, scraping elbows among
shattered car windows and
street lamps waiting to
die.
i’m a **** growing among rusty brick buildings,
admired, but confused on which way to
grow.
i am the sock that has no match,
i do not fit, the one puzzle piece that cannot squeeze.
sticking out awkward, desperately clinging on.
no more questions, no more assumptions.
you laugh because i have wings,
i cry because all i see are
feathers.

At this age he chews his steak with a knife,
Safely outside his body the little crescents come down,
These many red smiles that he holds in his hand.
He likes her cooking overtly sanguine now.
This added barbarity to make up for his caution
as he shows off to the crows on the fence.

Meanwhile she mutters like cautious clapping;
Voice muffled by her Cupid’s bow, turned down with age
and she only speaks little irritating truths.
French tips awkwardly grip a tin she washes out.
She drops it often with the weight of tomato-ed water
and she winces at every wince he makes.

Now the pages of their days are reflections of the cover.
To all those crows at the window
who notice her nails and his appetite
as much as they notice each other.
Dreaming of the past is for the old and the second choices
but what if they each got that one that got away.
(Return to top)

I've kept every ticket stub
to every movie
I can't watch now
because you are the face
on the screen
and I thumb through the pile
and as much as you talk about Delpy
or Marling but I don't know
if you ever knew that you
were my real leading lady

and sitting in the corner of a blessedly quiet McDonalds that is so old they haven't changed their booths to be uncomfortable to sit in, yet and wearing a black dress suited for vamps,
tarnished serpentine earrings whispering in my ears

not yet not yet not yet

speaking also to the stolen ring in my bag
that I am not yet a bougie eccentric

made to burn money and carry cigarette wands
and travel to tangier and have a little exotic pet

until I become more educated, eloquent, work on
my elocution until I am someone, who's someone

that deserves and has the gall to take, and possess
the world's most most beautiful blue wolf fur coat