Liquid courage to numb the pain.
Intoxicated to forget.
Offbeat blood, sent from heart to vein.
Returns with a guest, she just met.


She closes up, leaves the bar clean.
To her apartment, around three.
In bed she lays, counting some sheep,
That mock her, thinking she will sleep.
She hears the crickets’ lonely beat.
Reminding her of creeps she meets.
Sometimes they have a potential start.
But never truly go that far.


Each night dealt with some other cards.
But slowly starts to build up guard.
She puts less time in her makeup.
But drunks continue to pick up.
She joins in shots, hopes to pass out.
But in her head she hears the shouts.
Her heart’s hunger for real love.
Her clouded thoughts rise above.


A newly turned insomniac.
No longer sleeping on her back.
Till curtains peek with starry eyes.
So bright, leaves a forceful rise.
Her sobs like strings of violin.
A void no liquor can fill in.
Despite how much she tries to drown.
The aches resonate with shrill sounds.


Another night, still found no one.
A man enters, two drinks and done.
She questions him, “What is the rush?”
Always pulled into a quick crush.
But never really tends to last.
As he mumbles about his past.
A bartender, like therapist.
As alcohol reveals the gist.


Now drunk and loud, he starts to shout.
Before his crash, he raises doubt.
He talks about, the best he lost.
Always at home, waits for the toss.
She cheers him up, when in a rut.
He gets up again, “That **** mutt!
To see her hurt, curled up in bed.
I held her paw, up till her death.”


The next night, slept pretty early.
He was perfect, brown hair curly.
Her eyes were lost, but not with lust.
Enjoyed his smells, delicious must.
A piece of her, became a part.
Happy to save his sinking heart.
Rescued him, he slept on her rug.
Named Milo, her three-legged dog.

little dark girl with
kind eyes
when it comes time to
use the knife
I won't flinch and
i won't blame
you,
as I drive along the shore alone
as the palms wave,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
i won't blame you,
instead
i will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me
everything you had
and how I
offered you what was left of
me,
and I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again.
little dark girl with kind eyes
you have no
knife. the knife is
mine and i won't use it
yet.

How I wonder what you're at!'You know the song, perhaps?" "I've heard something like it," said Alice. "It goes on, you know," the Hatter continued,
"in this way: -- --
'Up above the world you fly,
Like a teatray in the sky.
Twinkle, twinkle --'"

If you come as softly
As the wind within the trees
You may hear what I hear
See what sorrow sees.

If you come as lightly
As threading dew
I will take you gladly
Nor ask more of you.

You may sit beside me
Silent as a breath
Only those who stay dead
Shall remember death.

And if you come I will be silent
Nor speak harsh words to you.
I will not ask you why now.
Or how, or what you do.

We shall sit here, softly
Beneath two different years
And the rich between us
Shall drink our tears.