Naked,
Lonely,
Ugly,
Forgotten.
Beautiful mess.
Don't you see me?
Here. Touch me there, can't you feel me?
Here are my lips, kiss me.
Here is my ***, grab me!
Here is my scent, breathe ME.
Don't you want me as I am?
Hit me, grab me, pinch me, stab me,
**** me, hug me, as long as you see me.
I'll take it all away if you'll let me.
I'M SCREAMING NOW. CAN YOU HEAR ME?
Here is me waiting,
Wanting
Hoping
Loving...
Just breathe.
Listen. He's silent. His hands don't feel.
His eyes don't see me, and my words have deafened him.
I'd be better if you'd allow. Let me show you.
**** me on the floor and leave me here folding in on myself.
Too rough.
There's nothing left of me now.

The words escape me
My mind circles in on itself.
Faster faster.
Here we are, looking deeper.
Still searching for some significant meaning.
Making mountains out of mole hills,
Sculpting happiness in the bile and muck.
It is man made from feces and mud but it is ours.
Possession is important.
Happiness is overrated.
Looking to connect the dots on pieces of paper and complaining when it goes wrong.
Wondering which turn would have taken you to the bigger pile of ****.
Never satisfied.
You as usual.

It isn't eternity
The never ending time
The forever you may imagine
The non existent end of the line

It is that moment everyday
When you walk past me
And I stand frozen... Unmoved
Satisfied just to be
Near you!

It isn't a melody
When songs play aloud
Birds as they sing in spring
Orchestration of sorts abound

It's in that silence
When you talk to me
I stand there spellbound
And the only thing I can see
Your lips!

It isn't heaven
When in a state of bliss
Prayers, drugs or meditation
Far fetched like a lover's kiss

It's in those moments
When I'm around you
And manage to be funny
Light up your eyes so blue
Your smile!

It isn't insanity
Like losing my mind
Or being told that I'm crazy
Isn't love considered blind?

It's knowing the truth
About space, silence and time
Yet in hidden secret and darkness
I write another silly little rhyme
About you!

A love like pomegranate seeds — I am condemned to a mortal marriage with Death, waiting for his hands to touch me in the winter; I am stuck inside an autumnal equinox, waiting for the spring. My mind is a brothel — filthy and thoughts floating in and out but not looking for any sort of commitment. But you say that my brain is efflorescent and something lovelier than I would believe. There are cities in the palms of my hands, once teeming with life like the Great Barrier Reef, but now moan the silent sounds of desolation within a Chernobyl wasteland; but you are roaming the ashes atop my fingertips like a lost child trying to unearth the memories of her mother beneath the rubble of a shaken faith, despite knowing she was lost forever in the wake of brutal destruction, kicking me left and right as though I were the collapsed mountain of infrastructure in the wake of early September, 2001. I say all this to confirm that I do miss your voice and its fluidity on the phone — I miss your voice even though I know you'll hang up, and I wish I felt that way about living. I only want you to hold my sticky heart like melted candy.  I want you to stop sighing and slumping in your chair like the names of every Holocaust victim is engraved on your eyelids. I want you to smile like an innocent child, for once.

There is a storm in my heart
Raining colors on my mind
From your words that you whisper
When mine are hard to find

The drops fall heavy
In a musical scale
-music unheard of
a heavenly hail

that soothes my fear
of coming days
when you won’t be near
with your angel gaze

feeding my heart
with the food of your soul
yes, my puzzle is complete
because you’ve made it whole

and all of my moments
are tinted with you
a brand new color
between red and blue

despite my instincts
I squeeze you tighter
Almost breaking that
Which has made the world brighter

I do my best to fight it
And keep you from harm
Its quite a scary thing
To hold the whole world in your arms


You are art
And could never bore me
When every word you speak
Is a story

That reminds me of why
There is ground beneath the sky
Each second of you exciting
Like a bird about to fly

None of this expresses
Just how you live within me
But I’ll be content in spending my life
Explaining through poetry

And maybe I’m just gone
Maychance I have gone crazy
But every sound my ears meet
Seems to rhyme with Katie

Katie, the forest
Katie, the stream
Katie, hell and heaven
Katie, everything in between

If this is losing ones mind
Let it never return again
I’ll be content in the void
Alone with Katie, the pen

And when death finds me
At the end of all things
I will smile inside, knowing

I’ve heard the voice with which love sings

don't feel sorry for me.
I am a competent,
satisfied human being.

be sorry for the others
who
fidget
complain

who
constantly
rearrange their
lives
like
furniture.

juggling mates
and
attitudes

their
confusion is
constant

and it will
touch
whoever they
deal with.

beware of them:
one of their
key words is
"love."

and beware those who
only take
instructions from their
God

for they have
failed completely to live their own
lives.

don't feel sorry for me
because I am alone

for even
at the most terrible
moments
humor
is my
companion.

I am a dog walking
backwards

I am a broken
banjo

I am a telephone wire
strung up in
Toledo, Ohio

I am a man
eating a meal
this night
in the month of
September.

put your sympathy
aside.
they say
water held up
Christ:
to come
through
you better be
nearly as
lucky.