¿Promise me. Can you please
promise me something?

Forever and ever ago,
there was this girl
with a toxic
smile who would
glammer her way to the style
of her elders and gamble her way
up the staircase of success.
That girl once answered a question.

Promise me you'll never lose yourself.

if there is anything left here
we’ll find it –
dig it out
of the rippling earth,
So we can mold it;
******* –
by the immense pressure
(of the bulldozer)
(of the needlepoint)
pointing
towards our future
(of the system)
caressing the victims
and swaddling the thief’s throat,
                 chest,
straight-jacketed to the depths of
near death
near the light
of the universe expansion
boiling in the brains
of us as human
        and we as human
have worked this earth
to ruin
and died ourselves
from exhaustion

and held in the calm stirring
of waking up every morning—
satin sheets and
pampered hands,
where there’s gas in the car
but it’s not too far
from crumbling
like that bridge that
lost its footing
on a spontaneous
mid-afternoon
swooning,
falling for the
water
being
so….close….
….to flooding.
The dams don’t hold a chance
To the masses
of hands
beating back
I’LL DIE WITHOUT IT
DON’T TAKE AWAY MY MAC; I’ll cry
                 because they’ll die
without swallowing the
puffy blue air
       and breathing the
red diamond
waters.

And the caves
could never whisper
to the drums of those
whose ears beat drums
through their headphones;
the leaves
cant drip on the
                                tongues
that are inside other peoples
mouths

and I wont allow sorrow
to seep in my bones
for all they’ve missed
because while they kissed
the soft bellies
of misfits
I rolled an underwater bull
on its back
so I wouldn’t drown—

if there is anything left here

I’m not sure the soft glitz
would catch the
cones of the greedy
souls diving
for pearls

i’m sure we’ve missed it

Seeing as you can't kiss me
You surely don't deserve me
And it'll take years
Before you'd miss me
But we don't have that long
Anyway

We have nothing,
Actually
And when the sting of your goodbye
Leaves me lonely
It's a joke
And I'm laughing

What
Are you
Doing?

my favorite pass time
when i'm saturated in my loneliness
and the hands of the clock
tick, tick on by
and i've exhausted my
google searches
and facebook stalks
is to open
an anonymous
text chat website
and inquire into the hearts
of faces I have never
(and will never)
see:
what do you think
the meaning of life is?
I paste into every chat,
delivered to their
screens in less than seconds.

you can have the most
intriguing
eye opening
enlightening
conversations
with strangers.

because i get atheists,
and nonbelievers,
and pessimists,
and perverts,
and not one person
answers
the same.

and it's beautiful;
no life
could possibly hold
the same meaning.

I've got nothing to say
when luminescent tears
drip from faces
I haven't seen
and words crusted behind
lids of skin
I haven't touched

come forth

and when they sing out
with voices deeper
than the rolls of the sea
but soft like
a women
I wonder
where they've been

come forth

singed blades of grass
may be black
and they may prickle your
toes when you walk barefoot
but unclothed you
stand there

come forth

there's nothing to be said
when promises linger
drenched in viscous fingers
who's nails
have yet to scrape the dirt
from under the kneecaps of their own hurt

come forth

into the silence.
there's an ocean of salt
that leaks from the eyes
of every punctured soul
that cannot speak

please,
come forth

just once:

someone to

join you

sitting on the beach

just

staring out at the waves as they

jog to

shore, the

jewels in his eyes meeting your

sad, reflective ones.

juxtaposition makes your best qualities

stand out; you feel

justly next to him and it is all

sacred.

It’s a funny thing
Being able to realize
They don’t have everything as figured out
As you thought they did
And you are both reduced to
The fear of a child
A child lost in a corn maze, that of which
An exit might as well not exist
And the path being sewn towards the future
Is unclear
For both of you; for everyone

It’s an odd thing
Being able to realize
Those mistakes of the past, the people
Who you think are haunting
Are only taunting—
Getting lost in your imaginary plot
The false narrative of events which never lead you
      To just the right picture
Because the future
   Does not arise from the ashes of days gone up in flames;
The future


                                               sits on the edges of your toes
                                                                     and
                                   perks up when the hair on your arm feels prickly
                                                                     but
                                          stirs when his endless eyes walk past;
                                                                     and


     the future
is never painted across the part in his lips
     or the feel of his inner thighs,
it is never handed over in his goodbyes

yes

                                the future

is a mystery

                                a delicacy;

the future

                             unravels with the clocks

ticking

                             marking the instant

pairs of eyes connected

                             but never promising

it will last

                             beyond
                                  a
                             memory
      
                 ~~

ill miss my friends birthday
and ill miss my friends
when im gone for a week
with family and family's boyfriends
and my technology
and my loneliness
and my craving to be wanted,
to be missed
by my friends
but i wont be missed
and i know i wont be missed
because they wont
do anything for me
while im here;
they wont compromise
wont give up their selfishness
to help me
and i dont get it
because all i do is bend over backwards
for my friends
who i miss so dearly
and always will

and i think maybe
i feel too deeply for this world
because everyone seems to be swimming
in their own decisions and passions
and ive never dipped a toe into the water
but ive stood on the shore
looking out at them go
and grow
and i stay with my feet scratching the sand
my feet imprinting my place in the world
into one footprint
because i have not yet walked a path
but only left one tiny
thought in the sand:
the stagnation of me will
leave my soul to be pruned
by the breeze

She said
My totem animal
Is an owl
As we saw one
Soar above us
With not a cloud in the sky
And the reflection
Of it’s wingspan—
It’s magnitude—
on the water
reminding me of solitude

and reminding me of an
earlier memory of a
rock path:
carved into the California
mountains and
growing to our
empowerment—
as we all walked calmly
towards the doors
I felt my neck tug my chin upwards
And point my face towards the sky—
and notice how the stars back home
paled in comparison to these
clear ones—
and out of the trees comes
a perfectly white
snow
owl that soared
above our heads

and I looked up and I
gasped and I asked
the people around me to look up
and see the owl above us
and how it was blessing us
and our experience
with our empowerment
and our movement;
I asked them and no one would answer;
They didn’t crane their
Necks to see what I saw
And I only saw the owl that night…

I wonder…
Am I the only one who
saw it fly
Because they refused to look up,
or was I really
the only one
who could see it

I brought this couch here
with new hopes for a
changed room
and it won't fit through
the door
and I brought this couch here

but nothing is right
about it's existence here
because I realized
I can't have nice things;
I destroy the change;
I put out the fire
                before it ignites;

and her first marriage
wasn't right
her second wasn't
either
but that didn't stop her
from proposing to nature
(Trust me, there were men
there
too)

and I wanted this couch here;
wanted to hire the men
and bring it up the stairs
and I did it because
I wanted it
and I can do things
myself
and I
am not hers
I'm not her baby--
I don't want to be
like her

but my new life won't fit
through the door
and I can't sit down
on the plush
in my own world
because it won't budge
pushed up against the doorframe

and so I am crying;
all hope is lost.

why don't you carve
the pain out of me
like I'm an ancient fossil;
hold my insecurities to
light, under a
magnifying glass
and marvel at the self destructing
primordial beast
biting on her own toes
or eating her brain..
and you can't even remove it
unless in
an autopsy

why is it you reappear
    just when I no longer long
to see your face besides mine,
to be inches from your eyes.
  why is it you know
         when I'm over you
so you can return again
and plague me with the same cycle
I've never gotten your logic
  and your decision making skills are poor
and you have done me no service
              but my feet won't walk away,
and I wanna peel you back at the seams
and lose my bones underneath
       the surface of your skin
and I want you to like it...
but you keep sewing yourself up
     and you've got me thinking:
there may not be many layers
       to uncover under there
except you're good at faking it
                 and you're good
                            at making me fall
                      all over again
          over my own feet...  
       over my own shoelaces  
   that you tied to the opposite side
                                 so I would trip
        and you would laugh
         and help me up, again

you're always
holding on
to your thought
               like the realness
            of it could
           bring you back
             to earth
                        let me tell you
                         something:
                        it's not really
                          tangible
                                at all

you were always scared
     & I always tried to be   strong

but I could only keep you up so long
And when the darkness consumed,
I went with you

and into your grave
               Went my hopes-
    six feet under and smothered,
starving for breath between packed earth

Your burial brought
                 the death of me
and when I swallowed
       That last pill w a swig..
..when the chair fell from underneath my "sturdy" feet...
...where my blood lay..and stained...
                         well
      I'd written you a letter in my head
(Because you could no longer
              Unfold it with your fingers,
and alas now neither can I)

because when I said
I couldn't live without you..


   and now we're both only
               stories


                            in heads

             *     *    

let me be with you
like it was always meant to be--
like the waves
must nudge the shoreline between
each breath
to flow out smoothly and
return again;
recharge
again
and with your
breath
comes my
life force
like the moon pulls
the lapping water
from serenity to storm
and in the eye comes
calmness
and in your eyes comes
peace
like the balance of
night and day:
the circular rotation of
sun and moon
creates the energy
that created you
and you being another
glory
kissing gently at
my toes,
rubbing noses
with my essence and
dancing upon the pedals
of my red rose--
you are just another
mystery of nature;
another wonder
of my world

if I could only love myself
today
there's no telling what would come
on the morrow--
maybe I'd be courageous enough
to put down the pipe
and pick up
a pencil
more often;
maybe I'd glide
through love
without feeling like I'm
soaring
to plunge deeper than
I've ever been
before. and
if I could only love myself
today
I'd give it all up
if you'd let me
love you...

if I could just love myself
today

Can't explain the rumble I felt
deep in the gutter of my stomach,
couldn't believe how fast
I got taken over and
brought down to my knees
like a servant
to some devious beast.

It was a party gone awry;
the kind of get together where flashing
red and blue lights interrupt the rowdy kids
just as soon as they've got ****** up,
but we hadn't even reached there yet;
and here I am shaking
in front of empty girls with
mean eyes; full makeup

and a new kind of burn came next
when I saw you come through
the front door
and bypassed me like every other
soulless flesh-and-bones--
and you are just as empty
as you passed me
as I shook
and I crumbled
and not one soul took notice,
especially
not
you

I let you
so far in
believing
that you’d hold my discombobulated bones
in your weary boy hands
and devote your life
to being sure I hung
propped up and connected
by string
all 206 bones
right beside you mixing
your phalanges in with mine
owning my thoughts and finishing the sentences
I couldn’t
for the people
I couldn’t face and taking the
troubles I resurrected from the depths
just so you could take them
into yours and dissolve them
again in to the water
below the bridge –
cast in to that ***** water below the bridge that crumbled
and sank in that same pollution
as I did
when we were broken
and my bones corroded with my soul
along the muddy, trash-ridden bank
and when my faith dragged my
withered torn body towards the grass
and my mind longed more to fail
and to die and to hurt
it wasn’t you that picked me up,
but my faith
and how my eyes took notice
that none of my bones were cracked
only a piece of me left under that bridge
but not a shattered bone
and that leaves you gone
with me in one piece
and I have yet to discover
a bigger miracle

It’s a line I’ve heard
So many times before
“Afraid of commitment” –
an excuse to mean they don’t like me..
scared to get serious with someone
who feels as deeply

it’s a line I’ve heard
so many times before
just helps to make me cry,
ruins my perception of people just a little bit more
soils my hope just a little bit more

why all the false hope?
The false sense of security,
Like you want to love me
But only
To retreat so fast like the recoil of a snake
Who bit me
In the hand, so fast and left two clean holes
Bubbling blood
That traced down my hand slowly and left
Red tears in the wake of the
First time,
Time that ruined everything

Like the thing I should have done but didn’t
Like the words I never said, I couldn’t
And the empty replies
And long sleepless nights watching movies
And never kissing,
Never admitting

And giving in to urges
to be told they feel weird, they feel off
he needs to leave,
and so he’s gone

they are all gone

NO ONE CAN **** THIS IN ME,
IT'S SUCH AN ECCENTRICITY

AND I LOVE IT'S DEFINING POWERS,
HELPS SEPARATE ME FROM..."THEM"

SO PEOPLE DEAR TO ME KNOW
IM NOT JUST ANOTHER,
COS I HOLD MY OWN

We were great
until the *** talk,
until the thrill of what
we were naturally so close too
swarmed, and left us
emaciated-
in the rubble of what once was
but never will be

We clicked
until each word mattered
and held the weight of
the world
on the small curvatures of
a letter-
until the pressure
crushed our passion
and snuffed out the mystery;
the fear of monogamy
held in your eyes and
reflected in these lonely ones of mine

We were sound
until the chaos of romance
became a lie between friends
losing touch, losing love

We were harmony,
until the earth turned
and the contents shifted with it

It's weird what goes on
behind these "simple" eyelids--
the thoughts and the urges
I simply cannot control

In one moment, I feel like
cleaning my desk, my vanity, my life--
next I am moving in a fluid dance,
and every object has it's place so
please
don't touch my pile--
just watch as I rearrange
the makeup and bracelets,
don't speak as I shift the contents
into a perfectly patterned formula.

Don't look as I starve myself raw
let me tear up inside and tango
with the devil - once dormant - parading my soul.
everything's just a means of control.

And then there's the highs, like one
speedy night,
where the right words escape me, yet I
never shut up.
they roll on out
and with the drop of my tongue,
the tragic downs
shred the place where my hope once hung

The world is distorted--
all senses curved and
odd thoughts odd actions--
when there's more than
one of you
inside

I always tell myself
That being sad is stupid
And to live in the present and smile
And hide the feelings inside

But it feels good to feel sad
It feels pure to recognize raw
Feels right to feel wrong
And that’s the scary part

Because I want to believe I want to be happy
Yet again and again I drag myself down
Into the depths of my own mind
Just to wallow some more
Just because I can

Because I love it
Because I want to feel the tears roll and the
Cuts hurt
I want to feel the beating in my chest pound
Thump thump thump
Its telling me
I’m still alive

The only thing I can do
is take one step away
from my past
and turn the corner
of a completely disguised
pathway.

A pathway, not a tunnel;
not a tunnel that
confines you in a circular hole;
not a tunnel that runs
under a river, smothering you
from view--
but an open pathway
in the gleaming sun.
A trail that allows the
warm light to burn your shoulders.

A straight shot to pain,
to discovery, to light.
A mesmerizing array of experience,
leading to a bottomless pool
of endless love.

Take the first step.

Does he notice when we meet eyes
In the hallway
In passing
But nonetheless: eye contact

Does it do to him what it does to me?
Send me back in time
to how things used to be

Does he remember all we used to say?
The way we felt
Holding hands in a crowd
United in his shed—
Simple in our time together

Does he reminisce and ponder
all that could have been different
between us, not this
rotten separation

I wonder what he thinks when he sees me.
Does it make him feel at all?

lick your lips before you sleep
and hope they stay soft
within your dream
so when you wake to my kiss,
lively
your lips will seem

simply
we leave with no more
than what we started with;
alone at last again--
a soul floating among
the stars, after death and
before birth in some weary in between--
we exit like our entrance,
lose some of our senses and
once again reduced to
uncontrollable bladder action--
the same molecules as
the follicles of our baby bottom skin.

one person, one death,  
and who is to say what's left behind?
for the only thing that matters in life
is what's inside your mind--
the only thing or other
living being
with you at all times
is you,
and so you are lost at the grave
after spending one lifetime
blossoming from birth;
return to earth
mortal, naked, bare

I need to just look at the little things
like the pattern of the clouds
in the sky, the way they look like
skid marks on wet sand,
just licked by the salty lips
of the vast ocean--
and yet you redefined my
whole perspective,
especially on the little things--
The small curve of your smile
and the sweet twinkle in your eye
became my everyday suffice,
and every simple movement
you'd make would knock me
off balance,
tumbling into the abyss:
the emptiness that comes when
someone who was your whole world
decides not to provide you
with the little things
you so desperately need
to survive

The creepy Italian guy
stares at us under his
bushy, too close together eyebrows
and he yells at us when we get free refills,
“You are costing me a fortune!”
but we don’t care what he says
because the soda machine
is right there
waiting for us to click in our cup
and nourish ourselves on the sweet,
high fructose corn syrup of youth

and the astonishment when the
two plates of fries comes,
one golden one curly—
and our napkin of ketchup wedged between—
two different types of potatoes
for two very different types of people

and yet, best of friends.
Connected companions at heart,
drilled in by the constant company
in childhood.
and yet, beautiful,
because without my best friend
no aspect of life could be the same

infinite time we have to spend
sauntering around in our woods,
our home:
the log cabin stretch of mount laurel
the not-so-busy shopping center
holding the Pizza King
where we would sit in a booth
long after our food was gone;
for in youth, there are
infinite things to say

and we are both now almost fully grown,
you have your high school diploma
and you will be off in the fall
for the big city,
and I’ll be stuck in a small town
full of small minded people,
feeling small while you
make a name for yourself
in the big “real” world

but no matter where we both go
we will look back
and remember all the times
we shared together—
good and bad,
family and friends,
home cooked meals and
long stays in the little pizza place
across the street
from our youth

I’m in some faraway place
In my head,
As if I could rewind
The hands of time:
I’m standing on a bridge,
Our bridge,
Waiting for you to join me,
But you never come.
I’m in your room
Sitting on your bed and
Watching harry potter,
Waiting for you to come back
From talking to your little sister,
But you don’t live here anymore.

I’m searching and searching
For you in the neighborhood
We both once occupied,
But I find not a trace.
You’re not anywhere
In my physical realm—
Not here, nor there,
And certainly not under that—
But you’re everywhere
In my heart

I wish that I’d recorded
Every conversation we ever had,
Because then I’d have
Almost a year’s worth of material—
Of you and me—
To watch over and over,
So I can further delay
My getting over you

Please just drown me
And forget I ever existed
Because then at least
I wont spend my days
In vivid remembrance
Of your almost embrace—
Instead ill spend them
At the bottom of the sea
With frozen open eyes
And breathless lungs—
A free mind,
And peace in my heart

You are the only thing
That made me feel important
For as long as I have lived
And those simple gifts you
Bestowed upon me—
Time, effort, patience
Kind words and friendship—
Kept me afloat when I carried
The weight of an anchor
On my insecure shoulders

What a kind soul you were
So easy for me to trust
And depend on
So simple for me to talk too,
Taught me to be open
And that people aren't
So bad

What a kind heart you were,
We spent so much time together
Without boredom crusting
Behind our eyes-
With free flowing words
And never a moments silence
Or lull in conversation

What a kind man you were
A gentleman,
A listen to your gut kind of guy-
No wonder,
I didn't deserve you

What a gentle soul you were
Always trying to comfort me,
Or let me down easy

What a ****** up person I was
To let myself become
Entangled in you
And all we could be

What a sad life I was leading
To always need your help
But depend too strongly
Until the breaking point,
Until you turned to go

What a disappointment I am
For me to have lost you
You and your kind soul  
To never touch,
Speak or listen to
Mine again

I can get up
Get ready,
Go out
With my “friends”

Celebrate the beginning
Of a year
So similar to all the others

I can sit here
In my bed
And mope about the
Past;
Past people
Past home
Past life

I can lay here
Sick
To my stomach,
In my heart

Listening to the cheers
Around me;
The rosy-cheeked faces
Of a little too much
Champagne

Only living in my mind
To a year behind
From this day,
I could only call it a
Celebration,
Because I was with you

And you watched me
When I fell,
Helped me up and
Stopped the torture

Now,
One year later
You’re not here
And I’m crying
As I’m falling
And falling

the sharp cut of the ink
temporarily tattoos
the A into my palm

“A”
for awake,
not lying in a cocoon
of blankets and pillows
but up and about
throughout the day;
awake

“A”
for alive,
with a readable pulse
and a flush
to the cheeks—
able to move, to speak;
alive

the thin drawn line
of the tip to skin
form the capital letter A
traced into the usual
clean canvas
of my inner hand,

laced with meaning,
singed with regret
flaming in the ashes
of how I remember things to be

awake, alive,
asleep, abandoned,

dead

So why is school, life
And life, school

Born for elementary
To learn to count the numbers,
Memorize the letters of the alphabet
And work the way up to the
Table
Stacked with multiplication
Problems

Just to climb to
Middle school
With ****** little
*******—
Their prissy little
Cliques—
That make or break you,
Decide your fate

And high school
Tries to even out the awkwardness,
With the cloud of the
Future
Hanging over your head
And still studying
For what, well,
You’re not quite sure

To grow up:
End up working at
A job that
Churns your stomach;
Curls your extended fingers and
Stretched palms
Into fists

To walk on with an
Empty face
And stare into the eyes of many
Empty
People, trudging along
With the same education
As you.

listening to the music you showed me:
Butch Clancy
"for yours are the sweetest eyes
I've ever seen"
only digs the knife in my stomach
deeper, to my heart--
to the slice you left of my skin,
my ears, reminded daily
of how you made me feel.
how good
how bad
how deserted

I'll call it a victory if
I go one day
without picturing your face,
listening to you
in my earbuds...

I guess it's time to find
some new music.

let me love you like no one
ever has--
like the first time a baby
opens his mouth
to speak simple words
with a cheer from the audience
never knowing the pain that will come

let me watch over you, and
allow me to cup your sorrows
into the palms of my hands,
as they soak into my skin
with a tingling sensation
as you enter me.

as you enter me
without your body
but with your words,
your thoughts:
the insight and the turmoil

let me sweep your trouble
under the rug
or between my *******--
let me love you like no one
ever has.