Ragged stone cliffs frame a wanting sea
The podium of black moods
Grounds of final thoughts
The twenty second swan dive
There are easier ways
I’ve been falling for fifty years
And the bottom seems no closer
I can slow the descent with outstretched arms
A type of crucifixion without the nails and sin
You have no idea what goes through a mind in free fall
There is no reminiscence, only now
And still I hear it said that there’s someone in a darker place
I know; I passed her on the way down

Blue water laps at blue tile.
blue depths beckon.
I will float in the starry silence
and play Ophelia one last time;
a sacrifice to the playwright.

Jumbled, run-on, fragment…
thoughts are like ill-written sentences.
I drop my shirt, choose another
curl into the linen closet
cry.


Stop the thoughts
I don’t want to know.
Seek the white noise
surround myself in sterility.

In the blue blue water
no agony of the soul exists,
no god-thrown insult as exquisitely painful
as what flies in and out of my mind

on the wings of a crow.

You always think you're prepared for a situation
You think
"Ok yes, he's going to find another girl
And I'm going to be okay with it
Because that's life
Hey, I don't even like him that much
He ain't ****
What does bring to me that I can't give myself?
Nothing
Nothing
Nothing
He ain't ****
I don't even want him anymore"

But then he actually does find another girl
He starts to talk to her daily like he used to do with you
He starts to flirt with her,
Call her during the nighttime
Ask her to hang out

And you would think you were prepared for this
Until it actually happens
And all your feelings come back
It feels like someone just ripped your heart out of your chest
and everything hurts
It hurts
It hurts
and you realize you weren't really prepared for this

I'm a ghost,
Something you can't fathom.
I walk around these halls
Hoping to find a cure..

It's there,
I know it is.
I've heard legends,stories,myths you tell little kids
"It can be cured," you said

It's all in my pretty little head
There are no shadows
No black,dark things
Lurking. Waiting. Plotting my demise
It's all in my mind.

I'm just a ghost
Roaming these halls
Waiting. Watching.
For the cut to become a scar.

I am a timeline of everything I've ever known.
It's copied onto thirty-five pieces of blank paper
and revealed to you in that mundane history course
that everyone naps through.

I can't deny
that among the black waves,
I've seen a sea star or two.
But I seem to be devoutly colorblind
to the silver linings that outline
what I've gone through.

You can't disguise your drowning,
nor can you swim to shore.
You just have to hope
that no one knows what to look for.

we walk through days
telling ourselves
that no one will accept us
and the raindrops roll down the pane
and the breath fogs up the place
where a hand lay
when the mind was transfixed
on headstones and graves

we walk through days
telling ourselves
that no one will accept us
and the eyes are dry caves
and a sailor's knot sits in the stomach
with no one to untie it
but just like milk
emotions have an expiration date

we walk through days
telling ourselves
that no one will accept us
and people are driving cars
and picking the last donut from the box
while someone is in a bathroom stall
hand and heart gripping tight
on something sharp

i am learning that love is all around
intertwined in every aspect of life
like falling asleep
and how it is incomplete
unless your name is lit up behind my eyelids
or when a child falls
running to a mother's arms
crying because he never made it and still got hurt

terrible things happen in this world
and the universe watches me decide
1. i wish i had never met you
2. right now i want to tell you
3. all i want is to ******* forget you