I am cigarettes, chocolate & cotton
The things that melt, not what freezes,
I have no patience & I won’t spare your feelings,

My skin is a canvas, it’s never empty
Bruises in water color, blood in ink,
Grace in the day, destruction at night

Selfish, megalomaniac & narcissistic
Not a shred of sympathy but empathy that’s endless
I have spent my entire life trying to get out of my body

Live outside my mind at all times,
repression, displacement, denial : defense
my anger consumes me & i can't see why

I have spent the last decade puking
my sexuality is twisted & it’s always been about power
tug of war, to keep the upper hand & keep them down

In the mirror, I see myself at 2 years old,
singing & kissing my sister on the forehead
& then pushing her into Christmas trees

I am open, gentle, loving, creative & kind.
A picture of fragility & resilience
So blinded in the light of this life

Forgive but never forget
& such grudges kind of weigh me down
I’m just scared they’ll all do it again & I’ll be the Fool

My mother has only slept, ate, drank, spent her way through life
When I’m really strong, I’ll let her off for that but right now,
I just can’t

I have always wondered why I was not like the others
& then I decided I didn’t want to be
they are puddles & I am a lake:

I’d rather swim, & risk drowning
than never see the depths of my being

Do you have dreams
Do you come alive in your sleep where it seems
the impossible is everyday
and the everyday is only kept at bay
by waking?

Find me dancing on your shadow,
I'll be leaning on the turn.
I dream of you, for Heaven's sake. On starlit nights,
you're far away.

I call out.
To whom I do not know.

My mind dwells in distance.
My thoughts collide and trail off, out of cities;
careening ships through mist and pine.

I try to catch my balance on your eyelids as I
push down,
heavy on swollen, blue skin;
Slipping on lashes wet with
memories
that you will not share with me,
and I dare not ask about them
because I'm scared of losing my footing.

I feel your darkness like a blanket,
while I wish it would
pummel me like a flood.

Tell me, I want to know, what have you seen, boy?
Certainly war,
crushed fingers and toes;
red rivers.

What have you felt?
Certainly love, warmth, and kindness;
red satin garments.

Come on,
you've seen this before and your pulse still lingers.
Irregular,
scattered
and a little too strong, but still.

I know you've been there before,
where the fear is asphyxiating,
and sudden as a red fox in the wood.

I know you know every corner,
every thicket,
every red flag of romance.

and sometimes,
that lost love,
she palpates,
sticky in your throat.

Will you ever let me dance there,
or is that air still coarse and salty on your tongue?

Are you ever home?
Because I knock and knock on your splintered door
and I throw stones to your shattered windows
and I sleep on your scorched, frost-bitten yard

and I wait.
With impeccable patience, I wait.

I do because
sometimes behind your silence,
at that particular time of night,

you know the time,

when the moon howls at the wolf,
when the mist makes love to the pines,
and the field mouse cries,
and it is so cold,

I have to dance on your shadow,
follow the turn.
Far, far away from ego and hate and cold, steel buildings;
just a little bit adrift, hopeful, and dreamy, too.

I can't resist.
I have learned to lean,
a whirling dervish on your breeze.

Let me tell you a bit about me
A bit that I haven’t told anyone

Here goes nothing…

I listen to Lady Gaga
A lot
The smell of whiskey doesn’t burn my nose
Rather it smells familiar, similar to maple syrup
I love to dance a lot when no one is looking
And really provocatively
I doubt my ability
Yet fear my potential
I kissed a boy in first grade
But don’t know why I have literally hid this all my life
The book “Charley and the Chocolate Factory” changed me
And I never like chocolate until this year
I am afraid of dogs
I grew up with dogs all of my life
I really dislike my arms from the elbow up
But play off my flannel shirts and hoodies as a fashion statement
I bite my nails but not nervously
Rather because nail clippers make my nails feel weird
I watch ****…
No one really admits that one but most of us do
I love not washing my hair
But I hate going out in public that way
I love most people but pretend I don’t
It’s easier that way
I love the feeling of crumbling sheet rock
Especially if it is wet
I have cussed since I was probably 7…
I think I cuss less now than I did in fifth grade
I generally admire those farthest from me
They are what I’ll never be
I could see myself as president
But just as easily a stripper
I have to try really hard not to cry when I think of my childhood
Especially young memories
I have tweezed my eye brows
And my toes
I have worn makeup while no one was home
Mainly just to try it
I love eating raw sugar
Especially chewing it
I am pretty sure I was delusional as a child
But sometimes I feel like either I wasn’t or I still am
I don’t feel like people ever really know me
Especially my family

There is a chunk of me
Please don’t waste it

Brittle words hang low over my ears-
Echoes of screams past, children crying,
Newly widowed women numb from loss.
There's a smile watching from afar.

A malicious figure laughs softly.
The cold, unfeeling chortle echoes
And all those who lie upon the field
Hear this sound and tremble from pure fear.

Yet women stand, hate in our dark gaze,
As we know who is to blame for this.
Losing everything hardens all.
A single, once-happy figure stands.

Blazing eyes appear behind dark hair-
Eyes that once were free to laugh and whoop,
But now lack joy and only hold tears.
We know her well- the child of our King.

That dark, laughing figure from far off
Now moves mockingly to sunder hope.
Our brave new Queen neither speaks nor moves.
We catch the feeling she radiates.

Deducing now, we quietly stand,
Building an impenetrable web
That no male being can e'er explain.
Our children cling to our bloodied skirts.

Silently, we wait for our Queen's move.
At first it is soft, but it builds up-
The battle song of Aesma, our land.
Our voices blend into one- we sing:

Merry is the gaze of kings
Upon our prosperous land.
With a battle cry,
We fiercely fly
With valiant swords on hand.

As voices ring, there is no King,
There is no you nor me,
There is only this melody
That binds us as we sing.

Our volume continues rising strong.
Those of us who deign not to sing, clap.
Sorrow clouds many a mind, and yet-
Rage enters our hearts as we sing on.

Aesma, Aesma, keep us safe,
As we fight to stay the blade
Of those who do fight
To end our right
And force their own wrong to trade.

The dark figure has stopped his advance.
His cold smile has begun to falter
We know that his evil power goes
Only as far as fear does remain.

As voices ring, there is no King,
There is no you nor me,
There is only this melody
That binds us as we sing.

Our Queen stops us with a pale, raised hand.
We know what she intends, and so wait.
As her hand moves down, we start to sway,
And stamp and clap in synchronized beat.

The Queen raises her voice first, the note
That begins our final battle cry.
Keeping the beat, we begin to march
Toward the figure, singing once more.

We are one.

We do not care if our lives are harmed.
This evil shadow has taken all
That we ever held dear. We are strong.
We move to ****, to avenge rightly.

We are one.

We feel the spirits of our people
Supporting us and driving us on.
Nothing can ever stop us in this-
Our final march. We know we must die.

We are one.

But we have purpose- we can never
Falter-- if we all die here, we shall
Have the satisfaction of knowing
We are taking the shadow with us.

We are one.
We, fighting are one.

Time grows late for the frozen shadow.
He knows there cannot be turning back.
He prepares his strength to survive,
But knows in his cold heart he shall die.

And none else shall ever reign
Upon this-

Last thing seen riding into chaos-
Is the darkened figure, doing the
Only thing right he has ever done-
Accepting his fate alongside us.

OUR land.


© 4/3/13

From the shade of leafs, it endeavours up the building, and crawls in through a screen, where it gets caught in a spiders web, where its twitching turns to screaming, as it is slowly eaten.

The crawly thing.

The lights are brighter than usual tonight.
They demand attention with their glowing, yellow faces.
It only makes the cackling women in the corner of the cafe ignore them more.
There is an unspoken consensus that these lights are to be avoided.
I make the mistake of looking one of them in the eye,
only to be blinded with a flood of yellow.

O, what remnants our paths leave so silently on our bones.
We never can quite brush them away to gather in dust.
How I wish I could be the dirt under your fingernails.
How I wish I could be the stubborn lint upon your dress.
O, how I dream of never pausing.

How I wish to be the bitter taste of slumber on your tongue.
These thoughts are interrupted by the blinding light above.
Pull me from the water only to **** in a lung-full of air.
I want to drown in your eyes.

What a worthy way to go, I say,
what a worthy way to pause.