Despite my buttoned-up blouses
and combed hair and glasses
I'm a feral creature.
Crouched, stunned, frightened
licking her own
wounds
and struggling to survive,
to learn how to defend herself
out in the jungle.

I'm savage
and I tend to burrow
into the deepest, darkest
caves of myself.

I'm running through the forest,
wild, dazed, confused,
with my slamming heart
my violet animal veins throbbing.

Don't try to tame me,
please, just
get me bandages, I’m bleeding
I'm wounded, I don't know
if I can endure
much longer.

I wish I could convert those who
think poetry is silly, or annoying.
I wish I could take them by the hand and lead them
through the words
preach, exhort and say look, listen
watch the pictures the words paint
and hear the music, the endless melodies
please
I wish I could baptize
those who scorn the beauty
and turn the non-believers into the devout







                                                                      Maybe I'll be a teacher

I been strollin down by the riverbed
Searchin for answers
Shifting the rocks, the pebbles and stones
Trying to dig up the secrets and unknowns
But the ripples never speak
The ferns never reply, that's the natural technique
Only silence
As the water slips and shimmies on by

I been walkin on the beach
Searchin for answers
Under the sun I wander and roam
Diggin the sand, kickin the foam
Tryin to unearth
The secrets of the world's worth
But the sand barely whispers, the foam only scorns
Only silence
As the tide shies away and mourns

I been crossin every desert
Searchin for answers
Climbing the dunes and braving the storms
The scorching heat, the flies in swarms
I couldn't understand what they were tryin to preach
And the solace of water remained always out of reach
-Never an oasis
Only a mirage

There is so much you don't know about a person
so much some do not speak of
Some secrets
are best left untold
and some secrets have simply gotten too heavy
to lift

This is not your fault
but you could have done more
You could've made my days a little bit easier
if you'd tried
But now you cannot reverse this
I'm sorry
I cannot come back.
Never.

I am no longer here because I was shattered
I deserve
credit for my courage,
for having endured so long

The only explanation I can give
is that I was a glitch.
That's all I ever felt myself to be.

The insensitive
are best suited to this world
and I am not strong enough
to endure my own presence.

I can only beg of you,
beg you to remember
To love yourselves
love those who surround you
Hold hands and know
that every person carries
a secret, untold struggle
(some are harder to survive than others
-I'm so sorry,
I had to)
Remember me
but most importantly
remember what I've been trying so hard to teach you.
Love
Tonight, today, tomorrow
Love
No matter the price.

I occasionally feel my smallness
to be a virtue
Yes I am invisible
and timid also, so quick to shut my eyes
I fade into the background.
my head,
settled into a thick fog
I do not speak words
which could be used against.
I do not open up
to those who could so easily harm me.

Don't try to to understand
the trickling through
my eyelids drooped.
When one has a secret life,
one's tears cannot be explained

But the problem is
that secrets worth having
tend to leak out
or implode

So I sometimes permit myself
to open at night,
I who vowed to never open again.
Speak to me at 3 o'clock
for I confess feebly in the light
but in darkness,
I am true

Discover me
before you find me in a coffin,
regretting all the questions
you never asked me
and all the things you should've said

"There are no diseases crueler
than the ones we self-inflict"
but I still find myself
thirsting for the bottle
and you still find the beast in your heart
begging to be smothered in smoke

They sneak out to smoke their cigs
between classes
just another insolence, another act of audacity
another fleck of rebellion
a way to express their contempt
a way to say ********
to the government and the educational system
and to the clockwork holding them back
from a death they secretly long for
Because i think at least a few of them know
that it’s still a suicide
even if it’s in slow motion
And every cigarette
is a calming coffin nail

Legally, they are too young
to drink or purchase
their ambrosia and tabacco treasures
Yes they are young, minors
but they’re already afraid of growing too old to die young
soon they'll get withered and wrinkling
and they won't be able to leave a beautiful corpse

Pulling off clear, crinkling cellophane, shiny silver foil
with nimble fingers and
sliding a single cigarette
out of the pack
and slipping it into their lips
It fits so effortlessly, so easy
they've been repeating the same motion for years now
sparking the lighter,
The small flame erupts
promising relief.
The sweet taste of nicotine trickling
down into the back of their throats.
They smile.

Behind stone gargoyle smiles
thunder eyes and rock fists
they hide their heavy hearts
with shrouds of smoke
like small-featured bride faces
behind heavy veils
Holding their precious gaspers
between 2 fingers,
elegantly, the way they saw
james bond and models in glossy magazines do it
There are no children here,
just the lost and the lonely,
the ones who wear such solid masks
They’re all looking for some form of redemption,
but they'll settle for attention
Faith, on the other hand,
is a language they don't speak

Their love for each other
is not sweet and childish
it's a collision of souls,
a necessary train wreck
a desperate tempest
to survive the deadly drone of school
it can't be done alone
regroup, collect, stick together,
collide

Their arguments and apologies
have the tragic tone of ancient rome
empires rising and falling

I hear them bicker
and argue and talk
with echoes of prayers in their voices
please see me, please hear me
please validate my existence

Debating
American Spirit, Malboro, Camel
the intricacies of the taste
they taught themselves to love

To me every joke sounds like a hymn
every nervous pair of hands
the brittle after-math
of broken promises
chaotic thoughts tumbling like dust in the wind

I know they are different
but they are human and young
and perhaps they are like me
Maybe they too
have fears
maybe they too awaken in the dead of night
sweating and confused

I can see them now, drifting in and out of focus
dragging their reluctant shadows
into school and out
Frail bodies running on caffeine and nicotine
pain, boredom, indifference and panic

You can tell they long for solace
in the way they hold their coffee
tenderly, fingers wrapped round
the comforting shape and smell
and kissing their cancer sticks
with faint hopes of necromancy
and rebirth with every puff

***
they take turns objectifying each other,
feigning tenderness when really
they are just new bodies
interlaced for an hour or two
There is no emotion here
they're just kids who've always loved playing
the ***** Doctor game

Mothers
use their name as a cautionary
tale and
they're the kids
our parents warned us about.

I know they've given up on perfection
so they want to be some kind of dazzling cataclysm
a bright, flaming disaster, a lovely wreck
they offer me a drag
but all I can think
is that rebellion isn’t a language
I know how to speak
All I can do is write this poem
which is both a eulogy
and an obituary



                                                     ­           I love them.
I love them because I know each of them is a work in progress,
because I know each is shattered in a sense
because they're just souls searching for a voice.
I love them because I'm starting to see
beyond the archetype-- a true expansiveness.
And I love them because the smell of cigarette smoke
reminds me of afternoons in France,
sitting on the curb of my dying grandfather's home
and watching the passer-by stroll through
the pavements.

I love them because everyone needs a place,
and they know that.

Their parties are an emergency exit.

They're a lighthouse for the lost.