I could have gotten out of bed today
I swear, I was planning on it
No really, I wanted to and everything

Too bad the walls caved in and the floor gave out and
I am nailed to my bed now

Two Children fell in love
After they colored the squares
And shaped the circles
And fit their hands around the lunchbox
Firm and slipped out the plastic
Ziplock bags
An fought over what was inside

Two Children fell in love
After they colored the squares
And shaped the circles
And fit their hands around the lunchbox
Firm and slipped out the plastic
Ziplock bags
And fought over what was inside

He has etch-a-sketch lines around his eyes
Sitting, leaning, portraying some sort of brash confidence. That he would perhaps get lucky on this
Tuesday
Where the wind blew silently and dew drops slid down the car windows like
silk gliding in the air or petals
splashing, expanding as they thud to the
ground was worn down, perhaps it was the time, or perhaps it was the lack thereof.
She is twirling her hair. I want to
scream WOMAN grow some *****! Sit up straight you
are letting him

Win with your Gucci-knockoff handbag and
blonde blonde hair you are
just like all of the other ****** looking for their
first and last love. Could you please explain
Why you chose to wear THAT on your
first date?

What a Typical
Tu
      es
           da
                 y

When Oedipus sees a ****** love
And holds hands in his womb
You'll find me ripe with love
Mary's little protégé
Glowing with hatred.
................................................
She comes up gasping for air
A lucid smile plastered on her pure face
Finely ground, strong as coffee, worn and burt.
A sacrilegious offering.
................................................
It's days like this
When the air is sharp and rips my lungs with glass
(sharper than his eyes once were)
That I mistake myself for a *****.
................................................
For infinity, or so, I will walk this coast
One step after another
Feet friendly with the hard ground
Back burning with arrows flung down from a suspended Hell.
................................................
Is Hell a place or state of mind?

I leaned in towards her, mimicking the curve in her back and the squint in her eyes. I rested my chin in my hands, completing the final touches to creating a mirror between us. A mirror. I smiled to question which one of us was the reflection and which was the reflector. Or, perhaps, we are inertly tied together at the wrist. The definition of reflecting written in my scars, hidden beneath my cardigan.  I smiled, and she smiled back, no longer questioning me, no longer doubting any part of my sincerity. I leaned back, and she followed me, relaxing into her new role.
I knew that I had her now, that I had all the power. With this, I formed promising words on my lips. Caressed careful tears down my cheeks while her head nodded and her hand jotted. I weaved the world I lived in, colored it red and black, or blue and pink. I brought her to the edge of the cliff side, and nudged her in, to be ****** under the carpet of waves and disappear in the waters and the wild. But, I brought her back up, nestled her in my arms and drifted back to Earth and to the warmth of the desert. I braided her hair and fixed her mind to the glorious battlefields of my youth, the stunning victories and the ****** defeats. I was the hero. A shining beacon of light in the dismal landscape.
I could tell be the way her lip quivered at the end of my story that I had won. Like wrinkled silk clinging to a bedpost, she hung onto every word I said and gazed in awe at the girl who overcame all odds. Victory was mine indeed.

But I take no prisoners.

Carrying her scalp, I left her screaming body in the office, next to the box of tissues and the thrift-store couch, which was still warm from where I had sat.

And I went on to the next therapist, a new story already brewing in my mind.

The space between us might disappear
Our mouths, careful cartographers, might record our discoveries with the pressure of our lips,
With our heavy breath and the rhythm of our heartbeats in unison.
Our hands might be like infant satellites charting the skies,
Feeling into the infinite distance and realizing
That what we once presumed were Planets apart
Are colliding and forming into something beautiful and dangerous.

But Oh
IF he saw me
IF he saw me naked he would see the scars
He would see them, I know, and he would know
He would shake with the earthquakes
He would feel the tornadoes that ripped apart my rib cage.
He would see the damage that was innocent and invisible from light years away.
I would no longer be a shining beacon of light in the far off distance.
IF he saw me naked he might see my past
Might fall and burn as he enters my atmosphere.
And know that my scars are no longer the tokens of hope that they once were.
They no longer show the past that I once believed might change.
The meteors will keep coming and I won't be able to clean the craters.
The disasters come with the tides
and with each sunset, the eve of the moon curses me with more tsunamis
To add to my naked shame

Kiss me in the dark
And the we shall join together in one great constellation
But you musn't see what I look like.
For I am not the star you think I am.

let  's                                                      place
                                    these                                                                                  magnets
                    where                                                                   ever                                                  we
         please                            and                                                              make
                                                                             sentences                                                                                          that
                                                                                                                                 we                                          don 't  
                                          really                                                       mean
because                                                                 in                                                            reality
                          all                                                                  this                                                                    food
                                                         is                                                                going
to                                                                             spoil
                                                                                                get
                                                                                                            rotten
                                                                                                                              and
                                                                                                                                          the
                                                                                                                             flesh
                                                                                                                 will
                                                                                                 smell
                                                                                                            of
                                                                                                                     death

Tonight, lanterns will swing freely like me, brassiere-less and glowing
Steam growing misty around my eyes,
My hair all pulled up, my bangs sticking to my forehead.

Lanterns will swing freely and the light will escape from them and create
Patterns on the glossy sidewalk
Plaster-white sidewalk with only a few pieces of black gum.

Lanterns will swing and patterns will dance and mirrors will tarnish
With time, green or brown, with cracks.
Until, perhaps, one day I shall not be able to see myself in them
My reflection might be murky and indistinguishable from that of a tree
Or a root
Or a dog
Or any other lonely person.

Tonight, the mirrors will crack and the glass will collect dust and piggy-banks will be left unshaken 
Their promises unfulfilled,
Leaving empty tummies and sunken-welled eyes.

Tonight, the lanterns may swing free but the lightbulbs inside will be trapped, 
Emaciated and skillfully looking for ways to break the glass.
Tonight, men will cry and mothers will mourn for themselves
And decisions will be decided
And switches will be flicked
And dancing will illuminate the gum

If the wind is parch white
And the universe stops
And listens to the words
Shape and form on the tip of my tongue
Vultis nosse?
Vis sentiunt?
Could I chip away the walls that separate our bodies?
Medio claustra potui dirumpere animas?

It would seem foolish, huh?

Funny, how hurt is so heavy.
Funny, how desiderium clarius est quam amor aliquando

Chant these ancient hymns
And press your lips against the sound of eternity:
*et orate
et orate
Amo te

I am the bohemians
I am fern-covered lovers hushing their moans
I am the lull in the night, whispering, promising
I am the promise of new life
I am reflecting off the silver, wrapping myself around his fingers
I am her glazed-over eyes
I am the hazy fog sitting triumphantly on the reeds
I am painting lunar self-portraits in their hair
I am the misfits
I am the journey
I am going to save you
I am going to **** you
I am We
We are the bohemians

Love
Love
Deeper Love
Tweenaged stars
More Love
linelinelinelinelinelineline
Do you worry?
Drama Queen
linelinelinelinelinelineline
Bull. ****.
Touch me
SawingSawing
linelinelinelinelinelinelinelinelinelinelinelinel­inelinelineline
Pretty little circles
Diamonds in my ears
Or safety pins
linelineline
On my thighs now
Side to Side
Carve my abs
Rock hard
linelinelinelinelinelinelineline
Best Friends For Ever
Shh. You're ALIVE
O Captain my Captain
linelinelinelinelinelineburrrrnnnnnnnn
I ran through the trees
Or a dog scratched me
Or a cat
Waiting for the moon to curl over the sky

I saw you in my reflection today, Your
hands reached out to me and I touched you but, It
was just my hands and I was quite
surprised at the fact of how old and
pruned they had become with
time ticking the clock beats
down on me like the chime of a death march
drum sentencing me to a fiery death on a wood
pole dancing in the moonlight, my *** glowing brighter than the
moon reflecting on the lake, almost giving ripples on the water from its sheer
power hungry CEO's telling me, the measly mail clerk, to give them the ******* morning
paper scattered around my room, crumpled in corners of each letter I never
sent screaming down hallways that day, my teacher didn't
understand how the moon works love? Look at the spell it
casts on her arm, I feel guilt but cannot put my tongue around the cause of
it could have been you holding me tonight, but instead I will **** a
stranger in the mirror, who could it be? If it isn't me and it isn't
you thought you could get away with this, didn't you? Well look at me
now: I am the one that is
sane and you are the one that is all
****** and trapped in a mirror with a knife in your hand.
YES you are the
killer.

Deformed pictures of a clear world
Reflections seep into the hole of my eyes
I blink.
They taunt me, malnourished images of what it means to be
Above the surface.
I blink.
I blink.
They taunt me.

The wrinkles and cracks of my ultraviolet hands
Feel the numb and malleable surroundings
I reach
Just ripples, surface screams that mutely disturb life
Above the surface.
I reach.
I reach.
I reach.
Just ripples.

The memory of breathing dances just beyond
The hazy and dew filled cobwebs that collect in the valleys
I gasp
Believing that perhaps, I will be filled with something from
Above the surface.
I gasp.
I gasp.
I gasp.
I gasp.
No air.
        No air.
               No air.
I gasp.
No.        Air.
I gasp.
No air.
No air.
I blink.
No air.
I blink.
I blink.
                       The surface.
                       The surface.
I blink.
The surface.
I.                     Reach.
I.                     Reach.
The surface.
I.                     Reach.
The surface.
       The surface.
The surface.
I gasp.
I blink.
I reach.
I gasp.
The surface.
                      The surface.
The surface.
The surface.
no air no air no air no air no air no air no no air air air no air no air
I'm sinking.
I'm
sin
king
down
down
dow
n
do
wn
d
ow
n
d
o
w
n

Nós ossos que aqui estamos pelos vossos esperamos*

I found you waiting for me
Under the hazy moon's glow
I felt your fingers on my back
Cold and wet as melted snow

I saw that your eyes smiled
Though your mouth, I could not see
Your hands raced against the clock
******* my ambiguity

With fire in your eyes
Your tongue shaped earthly whims
Drawing pentagrams on my bare stomach
Beautiful and grim

Ecstasy in primal hate
Beauty in the pain
Pleasuring me with my own blood
Introducing me to Cain

But then, the dark had ended
And dawn broke open  the night
I saw the blood on my pillow
And laughed in satanic delight

I bit my nails down to a nub
Am I a ghost? A long forgotten
Memory, eased into your backburner, well
Oiled with the sweat of my lust?

When may I emerge from the
Shadows and proclaim that my
Love may be silent, but
It screams so loud in my ears.

Hey, I am hurting here!
Can you put down your life for one
Moment and just sit and justfucking
Listento me?

Or perhaps the image of myself I held so dear is
Now a killer, destined for
Damnation along with all the other
Souls that murdered everything they touched.

I swear, I didn’t mean to.
But it all just crumpled in my
Hand like ashes and I tried to be delicate, but
I pressed too hard.

I wanted to know if it was alive.
I wanted to be sure that this
Love was real, and not just some
Plastic penny-box letter.

I cannot escape for you.
These bars bind me down and
These walls close me in No
Matter how much I runorrun
Or run into them they won’t
Budge.
Please, just this once?
Maybe, this time if I am strong enough they will
Move
And I will taste freedom

Please **** them
Every single one'a'em *******
I'm gunna shootemdead.
Gunna gunnemdown
We is gunna get ourselfs happy, fer once.
Issa great game, this "life" thing.

I’ve never liked wine anyway.* I imagined the glass slipping out of my hand and drifting down onto the white carpet to shatter, the pieces of silver flying and dancing passionately away from the deep red stain. What would it be like if I just slipped my hand… I would be terribly, oh so sorry, of course. I would apologize profusely and announce my utter clumsiness to the entire party, begging for pardon from my dear hostess.  I could see myself now- mopping up the spill with my napkin, secretly knowing that it would be there forever as an infinite reminder of my poor table manners. Well, she shouldn’t have invited me. She knows better-She is a lady of grace and elegance and has no reason to invite me to such a party of such class. We discussed ethical treatment of minorities to a great extent, focusing on the various subjects of moral decay that is sprouting up in this country like spring flowers. Lovely little flowers, they were, indeed. I dreamt of picking them up, each one, and pulling off each petal and eventually crushing the stems into the warm dirt below. Mmm, I should thank Miss Lovely for such a Lovely time tonight. I do believe that I have had a delightful time this evening; I started dinner off with some fine hor-d’oeuvres, ripping the curtains down and slamming them on the table, a light salade, crashing my plate against the ground and throwing my silverware about, some delightful coq a vin, followed by the screaming of profanities, and finishing with Fonseca and my glass, half drunken, on the floor. A delightful party, my dear, my dear. So pleased to have you. I could spend every moment here, laying on the floor at this lovely dinner party, naked and rolling in my own feces, scowling at the act of men rubbing thighs and adjusting their glasses.  I would love to just rip everything away and scream and hurry and spill all of this onto itself and leave miss lovely’s lovely white carpet all stained with everyone’s ****!     I SAID IT- I said it because somebody had to say it! I am sure that I won’t be the only one killing myself at the end of the night- after the goodbyes and kisses on the cheeks. No no no, I am certainly not the only one! In fact, I should think that we will all step into the bathtub at the same time, skillful skillful skillful to cut the strings at the exact right moment.  We really all are lovely little flowers aren’t we?

I caught you in the dark.
The reeds bending with my footsteps,
the wet grass chilling my toes as my
breath hung thick- close to my face.
I reached with the glass jar that my parents  gave me and caught you.
And closed the lid.
I took you into my room
-the place I'd never let anyone go before-
where you lit up the dark
and made shadows dance on the ceiling.

I kept you safe a snug in that jar
watching your controlled beauty light up
my dresser,
then my bed,
then my jewelry box,
and showed you all the prettiest parts of my room-
they got even lovelier in your presence.

but then You got out of the jar

And flew around my room- rediscovering
my dresser,
then my bed,
then my jewelry box
with a celestial freedom and a fullness I didn't know was possible.
And it was beautiful.

But then you flew into my closet
and under my bed
and behind the doors I keep closed
and buzzed around my ***** laundry.
It was ugly.
But I couldn't control you, and I couldn't put you back into the jar again.

While you lit up my entire room, my shame grew larger than the night sky looming on the other side of the windowpane.

So I opened the window
and waited for you to fly away from my ugly
believing that you would join the stars

Coranalled with ruby lumanecents,
She purified her hands sanguinary,
Disdaining her heart's curt, desperate repents,
She plunged into Phlegethon pensively.

Like a mother nursing her one child,
A metal bottle played her heart's succor,
She saw the world: imperfect, defiled,
And laid herself to rest on the wood floor.

Then she prayed, "If I die before I wake,
I pray the lord my branches don't break"

It keeps spinning
and spinning
and spinning.
We know where the arrow is going to land.
Why bother to play?

"So climb up to my boat, my friend,
   There is milk and honey and more!
   We will sail into eternity,
   And find what has been found before."*


Oh! Let's sail away!
I shall wait for you in the boats
And wait, lulled by the promise of perfection, for the
Blessed
Second board to blanket me.
All cozy and warm, we can set off to sea,
Let's sail!
Let's search for Moby!
Just beyond the horizon,
Turn left, away from the stars,
Down seven sets of stairs,
He is waiting for us.


Drinking with the other demons.

wind flushed over a countryside
rippling, rippling, ripping away the river
leaving nothing but a deep crevice in the sand. (This is the wasteland.) the grass, once green, is brown and shriveled. It is back to dirt again.
there is no more here, nothing to graze on:
these lips are dry
and have nothing to give you.

Rage coiled at the back of my throat
Serpentine with spit of fire
Welling up and sending
Acid down my cheeks and through my
Lips

Clenching teeth
Shivering and shaking
Eyes glowing full of molten dreams
Breath red with green

When I did it I focused
On the color of it all
The silvers
The reds
The way it all reflected and melted in the oozy warm water
Spinning and gliding
Drifting farther and farther
The molecules ripping apart at the zippers
Illustrating with precision and beauty what humans do
Through war and hatred*

The eclipsed moon whispered promises through the tape

After the ice in your eyes melted, I
Bathed in the crystal waters.

When the glaciers moved out from inside me, Sending
Waves that threw themselves down tributaries, Like
Laurels in the ocean-
You,
Arms extended like Christ,
Welcomed each slap of the sea.

By either the gentle flow of your celestial waters, Or my
Flensing tidal waves that engulfed you,
We purified each other- Our
Naked bodies clinging tight, pressing and feeling for some sort of magnetic force. I felt
Your tears on my breast, And watched
You emerge
-holy and pure-
Your face bearing the virtue of what it is like to feel (for once)
Whole.
Rediscovering the undeniable truths you had once forgotten,
(tucked away in a matchbox under your bed).

I wanted to touch you, And press
Every ounce of love I had into you, with
Just my fingertips. I
Wanted you to know that in a city of science,
Miracles could still happen. They
Could still feel as clean as they once felt when
We were children- faces
glowing pink and bright
Marveling at a white blanket in the morning.

From your palm
Silver dust
Erodes out of the place that
Destiny and love collide
To shine the way
For future idiots to trail blaze.

And it shines brighter than
(a vision pure and bright)
Molten lead
Fresh out the oven
Ready to be served on a silver platter.

Twisted words form smokey shadows
Long drags of lies manipulate
The time
The words
The tears
Into shining objects of merit
Boy scout badges sewn into stretched skin with red thread
Layer upon layer
Keep stretching your skin
How tight can it go?
The elasticity about to snap back to place
To reward the nerves with a sting of crimson guilt.

Transfixed with perfection
Sew the pieces together
Replace the gore with normality

(only to snap again)

And what about the words?
They sit there
Steeping
Brewing
Petrifying
Turning into putrid yellow smoke
Preparing to be exhaled
The result of a new hit of lies.

,,Water,,,(so hot)that- your- |skin| melts~~into it~~[and becomes part of the ::boiling:: surroundings] And you come out  "fresh and pink" ##cheeks rosy with //innocent// lust## {ready to ..start.. Your day} ++with a brand (n)ew face++

=mother, what has become of me?=

Who is running through your mind right now/ While we look at each other on the reflection-concrete/ The sky, blinking for us/ Illustrating our broken thoughts
Who is lingering in your eyes/ when you stare in your face/on the ground/looking for a fragment of information leading to yourself/ a way to tell me/ a way to save me
//
//
//
//
My toes are wrinkled/ My socks ooze you/ Layer by layer, I strip my skin off/ And examine my naked body in the foggy windowpane
I have an un-popped-pimple/ And you are there again/ Locked into the creases of my eyes/ Sewn by an auroral dream
The light sends silver up my leg/ And near my belly-button/ Circling my chest/ Lighting up the hairs that stand up in attention/ Did you succeed?
I am so far from you now/ A whole year far/ So much has changed/but/ The weather is foggy and gray/ the ground still reflects the same boy I knew so long ago.

I rubbed my skin against the morning's water
Whispered through a forest's green
and hushed a running stream

I shot through the fog in a car
And danced with the core of the heat
lifting blankets and secrets and hopes and dreams

I told him to leave
Conceived in him the idea of perpetual insignificance
Taught him the truth behind meaning

I watched him with his toes curled over the edge
a graduation day
Seeing the glassy water and feeling like a
martyr, a saint
My hands coaxed him in, my cries scratched his ears
He left the land
choosing some notion of solitude
choosing to drift with the tides

I blew the winds fiercer on her
Sending new waves of shudders through her naked body
Flinching with each whip of my winds
She curled tighter up into herself
I beat the sun into her back
I cracked her skin and bled her thirst
I caked dirt into the wounds I left

Desert or Sea?
Burn or Freeze?
Which Hell is harsher?
Will pain make me free?

I ate her after she withered back to dust
I drank his diluted blood

They will die today
And it will mean nothing to tomorrow

I
With the world spread around her,
Lying flat on the table,
Like a joint ready to be rolled,
She counted and recalculated the latitude of every destination,
And saw her hands
(so white, so clean)
Stretch and reach for all twelve corners of the map,
Saw them reach out and touch all ends of the earth.

Then, when she held every last morsel,
She took a match and watched the world burn.
Fruitless.



II
He laughed.
He dotted his I's with tears.
He rolled his nice and tight,
Kept it snug and safe,
Like a secret in a bottle.

He hung his head.
He sang of a world
Soft and gentle-
Where his fingers spoke for him
And told stories of joy and sadness,
And traveled like dust scattering in the air
Where happiness is round and white.

He closed his eyes
And focused
                        on the pounding
                 and the wishing
            and the pulsating

And never came back.



III
"Please, Dear, place your hands on the ground,
Don't worry, I always miss.
I'll trace you with this pin,
And you, too, can be pretty.
Just
                       Like
Me."

"Let's juggle
Let's play with fire
Let's walk where the sidewalk turns to dust
It will be great fun
And our souls will thank us"

Let's be a generation of *******.



IV
We are all sitting and waiting.
--waiting for something inexplicable waiting for a miracle waiting for the world to implode waiting for our names to be remembered waiting to be that one person--
Waiting for immortality.
But we're tired.
But we're impatient.
And cigarettes **** you only so slowly.
And we aren't as committed as he was.

Let's juggle
Let's play with fire.
Let's walk where the sidewalk turns to dust.



V
I was eaten by the dust
Falling in the stagnant air
Drifting
               With
                          The
                              ­     Wind
Scattered along the horizon like a dark and pitiful sunrise.

Ashes Ashes we all fall down.

When I am tired
Tired of everything
I sit
And let my mind             d                            r                                 i                             f                                   t
And think about the ways that
Maybe
I could run away
Run away from everything

I could go with Him
Get lost in the world
We could blindly lead each other to heaven
Or I could go by myself
Keep my eyes low
And                          s                          i                               n

of quiet and
quiet and quiet.

whispers are all too much

lie down
and let me listen
to you.
Your breath moves me.
I swear
     your pulse is music.

one
The grass is greener
On the hill of a graveyard
Feeding off the dead
                                                                                                                         two
The air is cleaner
In a ****** city of smog
Getting choked to death
                                                                                                                         three
She felt more alive
When She was trying to die
Than when She could walk
                                                                                                                         four
The path is clearer
Highlighted by smoke and dreams
Fresh to be beaten
                                                                                                                         five
He found life's meaning
When His hands were in the dust
Fingernails *****
                                                                                                                         six
She saw that His World
Would soon be blown far away
Off to greener grass
                                                                                                                        seven
They died together
She, acknowledging the truth.
He, stabbing at lies.

You left your coffee-stain on
My neck.

I'm shaking
My hands are shaking
I can't hold the pen any longer
No more time for writing 'bout it
No more time for thinking 'bout it
Every quake of my hands ticks down on the clock
And it's almost midnight.

you
                 traced
              me
                              with
      ­                 your
                                          fingertips
       ­               
                                                 ­    while
                                                           ­         your
                                                   ­                      hand
                                                                ­                     slid
                                                            ­                                     d
                                                               ­                                          o
                                                               ­                                                               w
­                                                                 ­                                                                 ­                            n

I hate to see you hurting:
it digs its nails into my
throat and rips
my vocal
chords
and makes
me screech in
pain as I feel as
if I am helpless to
your misery and as
much as I want to hold
you and tell you that
everything is going
to be fine; I cannot
for my feet are
planted firm
in the soil
and I am
sinking
just
like
you.

Please forgive me if it seems like I don't care

and I am not sure if I want it to stay that way or
not.

Love means nothing to skin.