I hid behind the Buddleia bushes,
crouched in pools of
broken butterfly wings,
and bright feathers.

Between gaps in the greens
I saw them laughing,
jokes floating from
their mouths.

Rain started falling
pools rose
higher,
hair turned to string
cheeks were on
fire,
heartbeat burned,
my head
turned
away.

He kissed her forehead
wiped damp from her eyes,
traced light on her face
light from the skies.

Afterwards I walked
home under
rainclouds,
rainbows,
and rain.
dotted in sorrow
splotched with pain.

And let him pick me up
close to him,
again .

stars fell and I caught them,
first beautiful then a burden
as they sizzled in my hands,
unworthy.

now I look at the splashed rays
that left marked stains ,
white lanes leading sparkles,
down veins.

do stars run through me now
and how, were do they start
a coursed line lingering ‘round
their home.

I house stars,
this alone makes me
my favorite person,
I smile more now
and everyone seems
to know why.

There are several truths that float here
Like leaves on winters infinite pool
And sometimes sink after hours, further,
Into the depth of my breakable mind.

I am almost always clothed to the body
Of an undetermined tomorrow,
Suffocating in the sleeves
Of any hopes shirt.
Keep you, I have been, for there
In the dirt road of my eyelids
You play with the riddled veins
Light cables unmet by reason.

It is not a tragedy, because
sideshow children were once living
And in their surrounds
Alive, beautiful people breathed.

I will be eluded by a string of pacifiers
A mobile above my head at night
But in-between lies of mystic creatures
And pearl planets, I will always be met by myself.

Something in his mouth, teeth
Quickly cut them out and ****
Those sweet infections into me.

Killings about wanting to be
Him, he’s soft skin binder,
The pages inside him shrieking.

Killings about loving, committing
Vomiting a heart and licking up
Leftovers for reminders.

Scratchy down my voice box,
His whispering tongue dances
I giggle, we’re ticklish.

Killings about craving, crushing,
His boney hands in half, his feet
With your crooked knife.

Iron metal bomb breath, his blood
In my blood, his mind in my mouth
Settling in my motionless middle

I love him, dead and dripping down
All over my printed carpet
All inside my sensitive stomach.

Killings about crazy, comfortable
And affectionate, to bruise, a battle
Swallowing fingernails, tears.

The soft morning cries itself
In through my bedroom walls

I can hear blue water failing
between the summer skies

Music gently trails in from
Somewhere outside me

Every element of loss and hurt
Breathes lightly on my body

Locks of love constrain in calm
Not knowing to let go

I can feel the warmth of far away
The gaps between each heartbeat

The soft morning mourns quietly
With my restlessness.

In your Garden

There’s a chance that I am immortal,
And so at night I climb and decorate trees,
My pale limbs hanging dangerously
Over wind and cold water seas.

I have found other worlds in your garden,
While crawling through the tangled leaves,
My crown fell down a hole that led to
A land of compultion thieves.

I hold my knees to my face and whistle,
My pink hands shiver, tippy toes freeze,
I pick roots of ice growing, biding my time
Till the moon lets me hang from trees.

Over time frost grew between my blue hair,
And sharp cold raindrops tickled my feet,
I’m still waiting for you to remember me
In a garden playground wrapped in sleet.