all ******* in a
gaze of satin
my god, does he know
what's happened?
& the tide is
rushing in

am I the sea or
the one who
waits beside it?

hell and heaven both
know that I'd
rather be a siren
dancing with graves
& secondhand glances
as I sing him toward
my waves


perhaps I was not meant
to save


so to hell with the sea
it's his fire that
I crave

your hand grips
mine
in the desert night
& I have to
count
how many times
you've led me
down this
line

the law need not
banish you,
love
as you, yourself
have done

but the fickle
rain
& this sordid game
can't wash what
has
become

oh, anything of nothing
first create

why must you scavenge
all my love
& pay me back with
hate?

the late season tortures
with cold breath
& kisses weary
bones

wherefore art thou,
cast to
hell's depth,
who slew my weakened
soul?


I'll keep your
grip
as you keep mine
along our sullied
stroll


but I've half a
mind
to prove how
time
can truly take its
toll

oh, fight or flight
my old familiar fiend
come you to taunt me or
have you come to
feed?

recall a year ago
when I fought so hard for
love?
& now I'm clenching fists
just to keep my head
above

I long for the haven I
may never be blessed with
again
thanks to this jaded heart
& the loss of dearest
friends

am I being punished?
am I being tried?
& here I thought the worst of it
was buried when he
died

"Gold Dust Woman"
comes on
I must remember me.

the worst to come
cannot be measured in
how it makes you
bleed

it can only be held
against the strength of
everything you've
managed to
survive

I suppose that's why I've
endeavored to somehow stay
alive


though this wretched year
has left me with
every will
& intention to
die


I am still
in some way
given the grace
to allow myself to
shine.

a kind of
vibrant, violent
wave
hits the thick atmosphere
with puzzling
poise
& divine undertones

she tries not to drink from
the many glasses
offered to
her
but his had such a
taste of rose
& she'd forgotten she
didn't care for
floral gifts



she'd prefer the drink
instead.

it had become
quite clear
that her escape plan
lacked ingenuity
when she was drafted into
the coldest war in
her history,
her only armor
being her
slow, simmering
rage

but not a single weapon of
words

it was the cool,
unseasonable August breeze
that crept into the nape
of her neck
warning her to
speak not


for the art of effort
is poetry
alone

i see your lemon juice
in the fridge
with the instructions you
wrote to remind
me to drink more water
because you knew
i was a jaded
lush

i want to expel it
and christen it as garbage
but i don't, as
i hope you'll be back for it
someday

i put too much faith
in people
who don't really
give a ****
or simply aren't
required to

i put too much soul
into things
left behind here

the devil in the details

the almond oil left on the nightstand
by my son's father
who took his
own life
just last May

the striped journal i still
haven't written in
from my dearest friend
who abandoned me
because I loved my demons
too much

as a human
part of your survival
is to encourage
self-love
& my cup runneth
*******
empty


my memory is an endless
loop of love
that is long gone to me
now


when you've driven them
all away
where do you drive?


& would you choose water
over wine?

the trees perform
in the soft denim light
& my handwriting
could stand to
be prettier
but I am drunk on
sadness
& lack of fortune

I feel you in
the air
for once I confirm
I am not alone
although I *******
am

will it blend?
will it
mend?

the only two stars
remaining
helped me to
believe it
may