if I wasn't on beer three
you know I'd write something pretty,
and dark, and sad, like you and me,
'bout how "The One" is no longer thee

My chest filled with rice

Boiling water, your mouth

We could have fed nations

I thought I heard a mirror rattling

Loose upon the wall

Shaking as you hurried past

Trembling in the dark

It’s not a metaphor

The pennies in your empty mug

It’s bad luck if you don’t clean up the shards

sadness* is the tip of the iceberg
visible
while depression resides just below the surface
bobbing, in and out

but this body lingers far beneath
the tension
at the most jagged points
and I can't hold my breath very long
                                                                           ...I have asthma

in the cold night's air
you cannot cling to it for safety
your skin sticks, rips
your feet slip

you try to let go
floating in nothingness
infinite
body weak, lungs crystallized

submerged beneath the surge
I wonder to myself,

                                             ...if i could drain the ocean,
                                                           what volumes lost could raise me now?

and my only wish
is that the Titanic come crashing here
******* me down to the ocean's depths
in the wake

as she sinks

I am planting flowers in the blood-soaked battleground
I light the soil on fire and spread the ashes of the unlucky fruit
The elephant turns to me and gives me a hoot
He's telling me someone brought a clock into the garden!
I smile and breathe in the thick citrus air
"The ticking stops!" a tiny voice appears
"We haven't a care, we haven't a care"
She wears a hat for every occasion, and her hair grows out her ears and down across her nose
Her body floats in a fizzy sea far away from the place her mother was born
We cried so hard we laughed
Our faces like ice

i'll be the toxin
if you wear me on your skin
if you feel me in your veins i'm working
my way
into your heart
across your lungs
and take the blood from bone
let me be the toxin
and you'll never feel alone
but i'll leave you
barren
bony
cold
and dry
just the way i like it
just the way you died

How I wish I was the cigarette
that brings you back down easy
pressed between your soft lips

How I wish I was the sheets
that keep you warm and safe at night
wrapped around your delicate frame

How I wish I was the guitar
that sings familiar to you each night
caressed by your gentle hands

How I wish I was the book
that spoke understanding to you across time
gazed upon intently by your longing eyes

I believe I was the poem
that you created in your sorrow
crumpled up and thrown away

...were you ashamed?