Say no more words, just softly fall asleep
Rain will wash the blood away, you'll finally be porcelain
You'll finally be what you were born to be
Statues always live on in history, these blood stained dolls lost memories
Never to be named, a stone with no dog tags

EVERYONE! Last February I took part in a gathering of visual, musical, and written artists with a wonderful collective called Err. This Twin Cities based collective gathers artists from all over and puts on shows showcasing every person in one night.

Over the past two years they have showcased 100 artists and now we, all together, are publishing an anthology of our work. Each artist has submitted one piece to be included in the book but now we need your help to make it a reality. We have started a campaign on Kickstarter to get our project off the ground.

We are at the half way point but we still need help. Everyone on this site has been amazingly supportive of my work and if you are at all able; anything you can give is beyond immensely appreciated.

Please check out our campaign page and, if you are moved by our efforts, consider donating.

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/391424492/err-volume-i?ref=user_menu

If I could list off your flaws
I'd put my name at the top.
Not your acne, that doesn't bother me.
Not your shaggy hair, three days *****.

If I could pile up your shortcomings
I'd seat myself upon a throne.
Not your blissfully ignorant youth.
Not your wistfully exaggerated woes.

If I could collect all the darkness
I've ever witnessed in your acts
I'd keep it closest to my heart
Where my shadow holds onto addiction.

Despite our differences, my sweet sinner
That which makes you ugly, makes you human,
And if I am to ever love your ruin.
I'll learn to love my hate for blisters.

Like water you beat
and you crashed
hoping to hollow me
and that I'd finally relent.

You wanted a cave.
Empty for you to fill,
although still holding
some structure to protect.

But you did not seem
to understand at all.
Or at least
you failed to notice.

My walls collapsed too
down down, and crumble
instead of a shelter
you only got sand.

But sand, sand is a beach
and a beach is not so bad.
You come and wash upon me
still influenced me like you meant.

However again you did not notice,
or at least did not seem to care.
Even sand wears thin
even sand grows tired.

You bashed and battered
hoping I would see.
But now everything is
under your sight line.

You would not hear
your own ferocity
and you could not hear
me over the roar of waves.

And so we are quite now
all my bonds shattered
and nothing left
for you to crash against.

There's something about wearing your PJs out to see the same eyes
that the night before saw orchestrated looks.
Tussled messes are shared upon our heads.
You braid the strands a few times and I try to make my hand a sufficient comb.

Coffee sipped on lips still tasting
of ***** and rolls of tobacco.
Sun drank on sleepy eyes.
Drizzle consumed on skin still smokey from the fire.

All the same, from cuffed sleeves and cologne.
All the same, from winged eyes and that skirt you wear so well.
The smiles, laughs, and embraces.
The sighs, support, and reassurings ring the same.

There's something about how we look.
How we look at each other the morning after,
That speaks louder than the shots and lyrics
we mouth so enthusiastically.

We stepped out of that skin
but we are still met
"There you are!"
and never "Where did 'that' you go?"

Last night I saw him after two weeks.
He was 9 shots deep,
patron making his breath hot and
heavy on my face when he hugged me hello.

I was cracking open a second beer
while he cut into the chicken breast.

He grabbed my arm and
placed it on the cutting board.
He pressed the knife to my flesh while I took a swig of beer.
He pulled the knife through my skin,
blood bubbling as he said:

"ah. you almost flinched."

He then took me into his mouth,
my blood making his lips and teeth momentarily stained ruby.

I held his head to my cheek and
kissed his neck while he crouched to my height.

I guess this was too tender a moment for him
because he pinned me against the wall and
pulled my hair so hard my feet ceased to touch the floor.

He kissed me with desire,
he kissed me in a way that almost made me flinch.

He kissed me but it didn't feel like a kiss.
He cut me and it felt like love.