twisted trees tear at the horizon
the clear night of my soul
allows a few bright stars
to stab through the darkness
landing photons from a hundred years
into my retina, bipolar cells firing

the night comes without warning
and we are all lost, carrying torches
with which we manage only to burn our fingers

clothes fall away and we see one another
it is not a pretty thing to be alone
how then can we be so loved by One
who sees all things, witnesses our solitude
our anger, our frustration
hears the terrible things
which we whisper to the floorboards
when no one can hear us

as we emerge from the womb
screaming to life in the hands of a stranger
we come into this world the same way we leave it:
covered in blood.

Sticky honey,
sickly sweet
Heaven's homemade remedy
black bear, left paw
suckling
queen bee, mossy
tall oak tree

Salmon swim up stream
warbled forehead
jagged teeth
grizzly bear , sharp claw
nature is an
animal

most days
I am overwhelmed
by the need to talk to you,
to feel your name drip from my
mouth.

I have a flask in my back pocket and a little bit of nothing in my wallet.
My thoughts are stumbling more than my feet and there is jazz somewhere out in the darkness.

My heart is full of rage and ***,
but parts of it are slightly numb,
when faces passing in the street
can always seem so grey and glum.

The sun hid out of sight today and echoes asked for light to see.
They faded in the raindrops and the clouds ignored the sound.

I watched the sunset through the white
and prayed for moonlight to give me sight
but the warmth that ran throughout my veins
decided to end a losing fight.



**to be continued...

I want to be there when it's 4 AM
and your chest can no longer withstand the weight
of the demons that no one else can see
and you can no longer push them back
long enough to breathe
and the exhales smell of ***** and misery
when your very own fingernails
betray your palms
with blood that looks like it's not even your own
I will bandage your hands
and hold them gently until the demons leave

and when you are afraid
of your own reflection
I will hide all the mirrors
and sit by your side with the lights off and
run my fingers through your hair
as if untangling your hair
could untangle the knots you have inside

I will wait for you
I will not groan when it's three in the morning
and you stumble out of bed
to go sit under the streetlight in the rain
and I will wait inside
with tea in your favorite mug
when you say you must go alone

when your eyes are vacant;
a winter house
with no footprints in the snow
and newspapers piling up in the driveway
the lights left on to scare away intruders
I will be there when you come back

I just need to know you'll come back