Hot tears and bad thoughts
Dark room and bright clocks
Soaked pillow and stuffy nose
Pitch black through the window
Can't breathe, I'm alone.
Please! This doesn't feel like home!
Sad suicidal scenarios in my head
Wish they were my life instead

What She Look Like?
  
…Like one
tenderly hushing
water in her lap
Elemental peace
No place to go
No more to be
…Like the ocean
in the background
of a photo on a warm spring day
belying
rage
and the random possible
thrash--

out!

at all guilty ******* in her path
Toss in the next sentient soul
who should happen to pass
within range
who should have seen
who should have known
what a storm could do….

Moody in the aftermath
and sorrier than rain
With the tide in retreat
grumbling excuses
Hiding out waist-deep in dusk’s Merlot
Waiting for night to sleep it off

to heal the rifts
cleanse the shame

Rising
yellow, bright— and

“What the hell happened, here?!”

____


Her hair
a winter’s tragedy of trees
upside down—
No wait— the wind has put her right
to ragged random branches
swaying, wet with intermittent hues
of dark and silver
caught in collar, flying inelegant and free
at the shoulders of the levee
tossed and softening shyly
sagging jaw and nose a stump of tree
All perspective changes…

if you watch a while—

She’ll raise her eyes
into the sunset
to catch an eagle
entering
flight

…and then you might…

___

She looks like—
a pudgy robin
querying grass
mud soaked
that hides the fire of her breast
tugging at a worm
more than half her length
“I will feed them, **** you!
Give it up, you son of a snake!”
_____

...Don’t miss her hour of music though
for anything
Encroaching darkness
from the rooftops
she listens to the hearts she breaks

Remember this in winter
she can give but she will take
it out on February
when you’re longing
for her

If everyone were a clown,
I’d be the worst.
Clowns aren’t suppose to make you frown,
I just bring you down.

Painted on smile,
But it’s not really there.
See its an illusion,
Don’t chuckle and sneer

Washing off makeup
But only with tears
A day full of syrup
Full of despair

Take the gun and **** it
Please don’t mock this
Lifetime of sadness
Everything is madness.

Water squirts
It’s just a toy
It just hurts
I just wanted joy

One more time
It is time to die
Gun on head
I want to be dead.

Hovering over the trigger
His eyes getting bigger
Wet again
With blood

Its not water
Amen
On the ground, a thud
Today he slaughtered

It was a man,
It was, himself.

Dreams are not
what they are supposed
to look like
anymore.
A constant blur
of reality,
reality meaning sadness,
sadness being
the most familiar thing
in this house.
My imagination
being nothing
but let downs.
Because i only know my dreams,
and sadness
is the most familiar thing
in this house.

Puking and depression
Coughing and anxiety

They go together
Like sticks and stones

Like

The sticky tar
And the wretched gasoline

You can't get rid of them
Because they stick to you

The tar becomes your clothes
And the gasoline becomes your perfume

They become a part of your life
Affecting where you go and what you like

And sometimes the tar is so thick
Or the gasoline is so strong

That you can't even get up
And so you're forced to stay in bed

And until the day comes

The day where you can peel that tar off
Or rinse that gasoline away

You will forever
Be set aflame