It is so interesting
that the first person on this world
that made me laugh
was the first that made me cry
the hardest.

I sit on my sectional, a witness
to those vulnerable beings
pulling at scarves,
yanking at gloves
clutching at down jackets
I find great entertainment by this.

They have waited until November
When I have resided in frost
since last October
All       year       long
I held onto turtlenecks of impulsive irony
I bore
thirteen layers exactly
of self pride
I wore gloves religiously
that were knitted out of masochism
and egocentrism
And I drank from cups of hot cocoa
brimmed with whipped irony
during the month of June
I was far to eager

Now these glorious beings
surround me
clinging to warmth and long john material,
sitting closest to the hearth

All I can do is laugh

I searched for a shell
in June
I decorated a tree of longing
in May
I reached for a fringing
frolicking
frock
in July
that would
:gasp:
keep me warm

Fahrenheit resided in
pelvic bone
fingerprints
desperado
and seduction

None of it warmed my bones.

The second that the inanimate vehicle
was no longer mine to control
and I fish tailed out
like I often fantasize about doing among the sea
wheels, bumper, lights
battled
median, gravity, and hope
As the same air that I ****** in
flew my mobile above the median
I caught a glimpse of that beautiful mountain
of where I accepted I would roll and be at the bottom of
no longer a mermaid swimming in air
all I could hold was my hope in salvation
"Please let there be a heaven, and please let me in."

As a little girl I was told I was "saved"
and I remember so specifically dunking my body under water
and no longer did heaven allude me
I made the choice with  myfather
hoping that as he was submerged in that "holy water"
that he would no longer be addicted to the "devil's drink"
I made the choice to be renewed
Clean.
Reborn into new skin and better more brilliant choices

As the snow reflected off of the mountain innocently
I prayed that the holy water, my prayers, my altruism, my heart would allow all of it to be true, for me
Bouncing back off of the median
another thought snapped into my cortex
"I hope Alex will be okay. I hope this doesn't ruin his life."
I spun exactly 4 times, crossing exactly four lanes

On the other side of the freeway
I felt the vibration of the vehicles flying past me
shaking my damaged car
I was in fact "saved."

What would I regret?
Who would I have wronged that would celebrate my passing?
Would there be anyone?
Who did I right?
Who would have regrets in the time they made for me, or the conflicts that always arise in relation with others?
Who did I change? What have I done with this life?

At least I would be dying at a time that I started turning my life around
and at least I would be dying at a time that I sat with a woman alone in the hospital trying to make the decision to keep her baby or put him up for adoption.
At least I got to hold him, and hold her heart in that space. At least I did that.
At least I loved Alex the way I always should have in the last two weeks. At least I gave him that.
At least I finished that painting for one of my closest, dearest friends.
At least I spent a weekend with my family, truly listening, truly being present.
At least I got to connect with my brother in a way I never have before.
At least I was a good friend to the people important to me.
At least I went to Europe and traveled.
At least I stopped drinking so much, and started giving more.

I didn't get to finish that really good book
and I didn't get to bring life into this world
and I didn't get to enjoy my relationship deeper
or my incredible friendships longer
I didn't get to go back to Paris
or learn French
or do that water color workshop inFebruary
and I didn't get to swim in the ocean one last time
I didn't get to master healthy boundaries
or get work published
or recite slam poetry
or say "I'm sorry" to all those men I wronged.
I didn't get to heal and repair from how far my ego took me
I didn't get to meditate or do hot yoga one last time

Humbling.
I hated the whole experience, because it was so **** humbling
I'm not invincible
I am mortal
And I cannot be the fearless strong woman
I try to be
every second of the day.
I will die,
but it won't be my corpse on that day
at the bottom of the mountain
in those mustard cords
and messy locks
listening to Heart "Crazy On You."
two minutes after a conversation with Bri
about silly childish plans and
how she was doing better,
even after I had gone
how much she wanted to hug me
and loved me.

Not that day.
but someday
death will undo me.

I'm starting to separate from the walls
our couch
the dishes
the plants and
the map on the wall
where we pinned all the places we had been together
I'm starting to detach from the photos
Our sweet young nephews
The hopes of creating our babes
I'm letting it go
I'm divorcing your dimples
and the fact that your toes are as long as my fingers
and I'm divorcing the anguish
the ******* yearning
the tears that roll down my cheeks when I awake
and there you are
looking at my with a blank stare
coldness in your smile.
Here I am again.
Married to it all
still.

I bathe myself in preparation
Suds of lavender & honey
lathered over my smooth summer skin
I even shave
just for you
Moroccan oil pours over my scalp
exfoliating extra well behind the ears
ah the ears
my favorite spot
Gently dry off
Making sure not to miss any spots
above the knee
where usually a stubble island lingers
make sure the *******
are like starfruit
ready for your suckling
Lather cocoa butter
on elbows and around neckline
sensual, a paradise for you
My argan oil tresses, your palm trees
drown lashes in bat black
curl them upward towards cloudy head
I pinch already flushed cheeks
nice and baby doll pink, just the way you like it
All the while staining lips vamp scarlet
so that you may think their sole purpose
on my face is for
circling around your ****
I tweeze brows into crescent moons
over a Bette Davis eye sky
And I won't dare forget to bleach each pearly tooth
picket fence white
So when I flash my counterfeit grin
a twinkle may appear
and blur the emptiness
lurking between both corners
Now for the *****, bra pairing
of course midnight lace and twin
You, my dear get to unwrap this body of mine
How will you choose what to unravel first?
******* or ****?
Decisions. Decisions.
All of it for your
heartbreaking ***** machismo

I arrive,
just as those perfect hands
of your clock
strike the moment you wanted them to
You dine
licking your fingers after each dish
You breathe cigarette breathe
Your pungent odor wreaks over my body
as yours climbs aboard
Hair, greasy hamburger follicles
Skin, porous with choking chemicals
And there is nothing to unwrap
nothing for me to find
Except an empty chest
The gold had been in my pockets the whole time
I must bathe you off.

I asked you to sleep with your feet by my head
in order to rest my fingers
but then I wanted to feel your toes
then the ligaments around your ankles,
next the pads of your heels
Then we finally
gave up
and you turned back up to me

we never did sleep that night.

I'm a gypsy
Your eyes are pockets
filled with all I've robbed
from this world
I'm a wave lacking
pure
white foam,
lashing at sand selfishly
I'm malice disease,
ill derived and pale skinned
lurking on your final days
I'm your tasteless vice:
cigarette filmed cough,
pitch lined coffee mugs
repeated whiskey morning breath.
I'm an acrobatic enemy
wreaking of abandonment
and wretched demise
I'm a mummy
wrapped in ***** linen lies
all the while buried in your arms,
like a pharaoh


I have a gremlin heart
that will eat up your days
purging  a stainless course
I bare a scorpion back
whipping in reverse to sting your
heated holy heart
My python legs
squeeze your robust piety,
crushing regal goodness.

My wants are bigger than my mouth and tongue and words
And I am just a                           girl.

I have slept in my bed 800 times
799 times I have slept in between sheets alone, without you
And yet that 735th night
Is what haunts me on night 801
Without you.
I need to get a new bed
And new sheets
And new skin
That you have not touched me in.

If I were to tell you
expose my darkness
unleash my destruction
I know my ocean of black
would swallow you whole
Your eyes would sink into your stomach
and no longer would I be your shining prize
I would flee
and wreck even more that I own
And I would say goodbye
before the period even followed my sentence
I know I'm not woman enough
to see your pain from my betrayal
slip into the carpet
at my feet
So yes, my dear I will flee
I'm so much better at leaving
I don't deserve your concrete feet
and your purity
Commitment drenched in your every move
I've known all along
this time would come
When my skin would shed
my mask would sail
and underneath all that I've shown you
A ***** lush ******* unveiled.

My body takes me places I do not know
Skin swims under your drumming veins
and twists around gripped clothing
My arms wrap around foreign limbs
Mind confusing them as familiar

Blonde tresses pulled and tangled
by numb fingers
Nose bitten by hollow teeth
lips ****** up of all their color
the red shoved in your bottomless pocket

Nape nestled and licked up
My head now rests on my shoulders
Those shoulders carved, pits of letters revealing your name
Poked collar bones distorted under your weight
Flattened under hungry bones

My body takes me places I do not know
Rib cage cracked by demanding palms
Heart removed, and poured into your thirsty inlet
******* swim into your hook, you feed off of them for days.
Eyes lost at sea

Ankles and feet shoved down to the foot of your bed
Boredom hits, and they are stuffed below
My knees sit between tongue and cheek
And that voice I had, caught in your canal
Inflection hanging in the orbit of your planet

My calves wander and brushed up
Painted against your gnarled spine
Thighs travel around your tortured torso
Asking for directions from navel
Lead stray

My body takes me places I do not know
Mind finally arrives
Body's tour ignored.

I seem to only want to write in
the middle of the month
It's safer hugged between
the beginning and the
end.
Would January
please help release me
from December's arms?

A need that twists
cabled and gripping
To be needed.
A war between
"I shouldn'ts" and "but I have tos"
Where am I in all of this?
The identity of a woman
with ten thousand strong hearts
and breaths
All of it deflated by another
Who appears to need oxygen MORE

Need need need

Kneed Kneed Kneed

until I'm contorted into a
better reflection of yourself.
Unrecognizable am I
I look like the surface of correspondence
Here I am!
Always.
I am
The soul mate
to your dreams and
descriptors and
hurt and
tears and
all that you've ever wanted to change in your life.  
And you'll swear on all that you stand for
that we are closer than anyone you've ever known
But if you were to recite one fact about me
The room would be quiet and empty.


A need to be needed.

"You can't be in two places at once."

My palms are faced towards India
The space needle owns my eyes
My rib cage is Italy
My heart, belonging to Paris
My knees wobbled and weak in the direction of the Cayman Islands
The sting rays rubbed up soft among my calves
The breath caught in my lungs the second
I head east
Where you own my oxygen
in Spokane
My toes are pointed towards Portland
where mystery, wept tears,
and the abandonment of my father
resides.
New York city holds
the inferior restlessness within me
and this tiny little room
is where "I am."

If I could gift a mantra
to humanity
it would be

"I am worthy"

Oh to flee
to spider jump from one skyscraper to
the next
Holding the reflections
of the city panes
in my pocket
Electric energy a blanket
to my bones
Oh to flee
to dart through redwood
forests
until feet become fir
legs become outstretched
oak limbs
and arms become ascending jays
drifting higher and higher into a "v"
of vulnerability
Oh to flee
to swim through the heavy Atlantic
diving deeper into the open
and rest softly among the algae floor
to feel the schools of fish swift
weaving from my mane
braiding the space between my fingers
Oh to feel alive
Sweet sweet escape
I can taste your salt on my lips
I can feel your softness in the swing of my gate
I can almost hold your beauty in my hands
If I could only own you
and make you mine

I'm in a state of constant rebellion
I boycott your love
and protest the war
That rests within my
guarded core
I'm in utter revolt
I thought I was enraged at the world
And the oppression it has cast on me
A silly blonde girl
such as I
I'm only at odds
with the self.
I've been advocating
Justice
Rooted in feminism
Responding only in fight and flight and freeze
and fury
Anything that
will help me
boldly wear
my riot gear.
I'm in incessant mutiny
and scrutiny
and, oh, just to be
defenseless.
I would give anything
to turn soft
for
you.

I'm reckless
and wounded
and the most horrible part of it
all
is that I'm completely
unapologetic
about the raised
scars
I've created
in your mind.

I can't help but wonder
Why
Owning
The civilized lifestyle
Is so unbearably difficult for me
I'll co-work with my adrenaline
And take flight in experience
I'll take on the occupation
Of people watching,
Backpacking country to country
Indulging in culture
Surely I would be promoted,
"Employee of the year"
I could do that  forty hours a week,
Even sixty
My whole life
Now that is a career.
I could marry Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel
And hold hands with the Louvre
And make love to a portrait created at Montmarte
Now that is a vow I could make.
I could hold music in my womb
Lyrical flesh and formation
I would allow notes and rhythmic sensation to feed off of my nutrients
Pushing my body into stretch mark melody.
I could birth an entire album
Now that is motherhood.
But alas,
I do not live in the city that resides in my mind.
I am told to marry a man,
Birth a baby,
Own an occupation,
And dismiss
The yearnings of my heart,
Cursing civilization as I go.

The drive home begins with the Smiths
And ends with the Pixies.
I merge onto punitive pessimism
Heading north
Of an unfed need
Starvation, climbing with mileage
I switch lanes
Into loneliness
And putter up through
The Snoqualmie pass
The ceremonial point
Where I disown one contempt
To adopt another
From west to east
From mountainous mercy
To a pathetic plateau
This highway carries yellow lined cynicism
And white striped weariness
These pines hold my pining
For a life I long to know
Fully

These fours hours are my grace period
Of the transformation process
From untamed flight to civilized standstill

I'm assuming
this is my punishment.
Walking around in clothing
you've touched me in
garments
you grabbed and unzipped
and twisted
and threw around your room
I wear them with weeping heartache
and disturbed remorse
I bare them like a mannequin
the clothes merely
mocking me
I can only wonder
if I stood before you again
with clothes littering your floor
if you'd find me a god
hold me as your muse

and if I would feel better because of it.
Doubtful my dear.
Doubtful.

I realized to my despair
that I am a terrible liar,
notorious fibber,
and compulsive embellisher.
I deceive
without my knowledge
For my empathy is so pervasive,
so consuming
that when another is experiencing
grief and suffering
and vexation
of the spirit
That, like the tissue I offer for their tears
I soak up every gnawing sorrow
and suddenly
I become in sync,
In belief.
Twinned disturbance
leads to expression
of experience
And soon I'm telling
others of what has just happened to me
when nothing has actually happened at all.

Could someone please relieve me of this torturous empathy?
Its turning me into a fallacy

I lost my grandfather
and my wedding band
all within the same week
I lost my appetite
and my summer skin
all within the same day
I lost my beauty
and the blonde in my hair
all within the same hour
My beauty, rusted
my hair, grey
I lost the need to write
and the poetry that used to stain my lips
my lips are pale now
and my need is a whisper
caught in the middle marrow
of my bones
I lost my mother's pride
and my sister-brother timeless connection
My mother is hours away
and my brother is drowning in addiction
I misplaced your heart
It's pulsing patiently
waiting for it's caretaker
like a dependent waits for their
distribution of doped up desire
and I lost myself along the way
in the iris and desperation and narcissism
of everyone around me.

The hunt is on.

And as I cross among the stage
identical to the other three hundred dedicated
individuals
cap, gown, tassel
I can't help but hold on to my cap
Keep on this gown
and continue through the world
in students' skin
the only coat of comfort
I can find.

Is it possible to be a self within a self?
When we whisper the over-used notion, "I would never do that."
Is that merely the hidden internal us responding in fear
in vulnerability
in sacredness, holding onto the hope
that no, we would never do that?

I would never flee down coast line to coast line
abandoning all
recklessly
I would never own a worthy
boyish love
holding it ransom,
giving not even a speck of pink back
selfishly
I would never cloud ridicule
over the individuals that love me and wreak grey
havoc on their hearts
so haughtily
I would never obsess over material
adornment and superficial success
vapidly
Hoping to control others with one look, one unreachable charm
I would never look like a Barbie doll queen
Platinum blonde hair
Golden olive skin
Perfect figure
what a cliché
what a ******* conformist
I would never lick up liquor like a dogged lush
tarring the black of the night
so pathetic
I would never weep in the shower
because of the way someone loved me too much
I would never have a disgusting want to be left lonely
So degrading

I would never let the world turn me

**I would never.

I yearn to shed my love
like my summer skin
It holds me down to earth
futile and forcing
It reminds me of the good I should be
the committed
constructive
civilized person I could be
I want to shed that dignified person
staring back at me
She looks so poised
So beautiful
and wide eyed
Arms wide open
I want to shed these form fitting clothes
and nine inch heels
and I want to cut off my big hair
and get rid of th

Is it wrong
that I am grateful
to have an aching heart
once again?

It feels far more natural.

Your
mug shot
stared back at me,
removing all mystery left
within the night.
I became grateful for the glowing screen
that separated your captured image
from my wide eyes.
My breath lunged back into lungs,
squeezing the walls for safety,
terrified of battling
the thick air
in the room
where I held your photo.

Your lips thin and
braced,
as if you were holding
your hell
in the muscles of your jaw.
They were grey and tight
like the rest of your skin
stretched across your foreign face.
Your eyes,
sunken
as if you were already a skeleton.
Death peaking through in physical life.
I could barely peer into your pupils
for longer than a fraction of a second
without looking away.
Your gaze cold,
seeping with chemicals,
reflecting a glassy turmoil.
The features of your face
were no longer present
the way they used to be when
I was a little girl.
It's as if time
washed the details of you
away.

A rainy sorrow
I used to get caught in.
Until realizing the dryness
of non-existence.

The only deciphering factor
that lead me to believe
that it was really you
Staring back at me
was the way your part
forced your blonde hair
to wave
around your face
and collapse at your cheeks

The way mine does.

The intimate connection

A closeness
where proximity
is never the issue
words caught from mouth to mouth
like a French kiss of communication
Seductive cognitive stimulation
Tingling understanding
from ear to heart to mind
As soon as the first word uttered
first glance in flight
it's as if
loneliness was never known

The lighthearted playful connection

Laughter released roaring from
the core
A dream fostered by two
to champion the fantastical
adventurous night of
spontaneity and the birth of a different self
Veins, blood, cheeks chuckling
A direct line of yellow energy
from one being to the other
spreading like unconscious permission
allowing comic relief
and free-spirited flight of
words, song, dance
It's as if
consequence of action
never existed

The healing connection

Rage and pain
spouted out of a
heartbroken hose
A desperate hope for rehabilitation
And then another enters the space
Alas, another enters the suffocating space
and pumps oxygen back into the room
for hurled haughty words
and salted wounds
No need to choose a side
the center of the bed, saved for you
to curl and cry and become lost in
another's blanket embrace
Holding exhaustion for you
It's as if you had four shoulders
to hold that world of yours
instead of two

The forbidden connection**

Two beings
owned by another
through
rings
or promises
or time
The universe, introducing them
The light accidental brush of a hand
Longing iris to iris
Lust permeating the senses
Logic and sequence futile
Crimson licking up breath,
movement, muscles
It's as if for an instant
a wish thrown out to the stars
to be an article of clothing
hugging crevice, curve, skin

No (wo) man is an island
But is it possible to be the
Roaring ocean?
Swallowing rocks with animosity
And spitting out a
Glittery product
Of sandy turmoil

No (wo)man is an island
But is it possible to be the grey
Black boulders?
Among the edge
Where the green lush ends
And the midnight blue
Sadness begins.
Stagnant and indifferent
To the wild hearted seagulls
Perched and picking
Pointing out the imperfections
Of a jagged way of being

No (wo)man is an island
But is it possible to be the drifting
Lofty limitless clouds
A pertinent part of the  paradoxical ceiling
Of the globe
Floating and spreading
Fluffy wings of idealism
offering frustrating fantastical
Dreamy substance
To a crooked solidified world below

No (wo)man is an island
But is there just a small
Glimmering possibility
That if I wanted to be
I could be an island
Lone, and far away
From these
Destructive city slicker
Emotions
That stack on top of each other
Like the condos neighboring my mind
Crowding my consciousness

Goodbye
Disgusting excuse of a friend
A confidant
I used to hold such confidence in,
Now a sickly
Pseudo relationship.
You and I
A Despicable desert dry
Duo
I can't spend another second
At this pathetic pretending
That you can offer anything to anyone
But a narcissistic notion
And a nerve-racking
neuroses of the mind
The universe is out to get you
I curse my oblivious self
I had forgotten you are the single
Cohabiter on Earth
Ah, yes
You are undefeated
At the blame game
I've tried to hold honor in defeat
But, I don't have an ounce of energy left
For your egotistical world
You unhinged
Dark gate
You let your steed of self-obsession
Out to stampede the sincerest hearts
You don't even see the *****
Destruction
You deal out
From your deprived reciprocity
Alcohol, your only ailment
Your **** filled words
Tossed out lament and futile
This is where we go our divided way
I will not claim even a freckle on your face
As a friend
I will not look back
Nostalgia is not necessary
I will detach myself from your
Leach like misery
And I'll slowly build strength back
A blood flow of enraged fierceness
Has circulated through my core
And it will be as if
I never had any bit
Of me
Belonging to you
Friend, now foe
Farewell

Last night
I picked up a self help book
I drank some "meditation tea" whatever the hell that is
I listened to an awful song
that wouldn't remind me of you
I tried yoga
I even prayed to God
God knows it's been awhile
since I felt existential
I went to my favorite grocer
and talked to the most inviting cashier
I thought it might help
I "channeled" my energy
I lifted weights
I flirted with my trainer
I put on red lipstick
I weeped.
I blogged
I analyzed myself
and my family
and mostly my dad
I "ate my feelings"
I googled "how to get over someone"
I ripped your love letter
in a million pieces
I reminded myself of all my "blessings"
I drove an extra time around my block
I stayed up way too late
watching infomercials about beauty
and vapid mind numbing consumerism
I tried to learn the guitar
I called my brother
just to hear his voice
before the beep
and just to hear mine
after it
I smiled and stared out the window
and pretended I was in a Hitchcock film
I went outside to smoke a cigarette
and I don't even smoke
I just wanted to feel the biting cold
against my hidden skin
I went shopping and bought an overly
expensive sweater
that won't fit me
unless I grew about ten inches
I read the Catcher in the Rye eight times

And I made this ******* list
that makes me feel so utterly hopeless
and chaotic catharticism

what a messy heart
staining my perfectly
neat life.

I have never snorted
or smoked
or stung skin
with the explicit
substances of this earth
But I have heard that when
a human being goes from
first ****** experience to
aching addiction
Their brains have been
flooded
with seratonin
to such a devestating
degree
that they can no longer
enjoy organic bliss

                                                        sc­ent
                                                        taste­
                                                        touch
  ­                                                      melody

Wha­t I want to know
Is if this is what happened to me
because of **you

I hid under my throw
covering every inch of self
I curled in child's pose position
and clung to my toes
I kissed my shoulder
and whispered a tiny prayer
Patches of quilt protected me,
but your gremlin words kept bouncing
from the walls to the ceiling
to the window to the fan
Under my bed, where you lay
Monologue Monsters
attacked
Those threads within that
colored quilt
disintegrated
and there I was a child
exposed

If I ever see you again
I'll spat insults and hope they
Spray on your aviators
like the bugs that squashed against
my windshield the last time
I drove away from you

If fate destroys me
and I am in the same pub one night
as your wormy self
I'll tell you how you're the most
arrogant, vapid, shallow, womanizing,
******* male mascot
I've ever had the disgust to know

I'll slap you hard across the face
Oh and not like Scarlett O'Hara,
you demon darling
No crushing kiss will follow
and I'll mean vengence
vile will seep through my mouth
instead of the sweet saliva
I let you taste
long ago

If I ever hear your voice
or see your mocking manequin
among my tele again
With disgraceful force
I will lift that 50 lb set
and propel that ******* screen
across the state
The way your black static apology
shattered the brightness
that used to reside
within
me

If I hear of you
one more dispicable time
I'll grow bombs maticulously
within my empty core
and time them so perfectly
that all of your dysfunctional doormat
confidants
will explode the second they come near me
and their manipulative cells
will burst
and be burried among the soil
of ***** words
you whispered in my ears

****, if I ever see you again
I'll shatter every martini glass around me
and down a fifth of fireball
and breath venomous fire
and burn you, you beastly boy
And I'll pretend beauty amongst you
and walk away, a tall glass of water
That could diffuse
that angry licking fire
that is swallowing you up

When I see you again
I won't acknowledge your existence
and I'll be dressed to the nines
and I won't do a ******* thing about it
Because you aren't worth a sentence within this stanza

But I know I am.

I had a nightmare that you left me
no need for my love
any longer
In my loss
I painfully pulled
our ring off my finger
consciously unaware
and as I went to wrap my arms
around you in the morn
I sobbed and heaved
and weeped
seeing that finger bare
thinking I had lost it forever
I searched in panic,
shallow breathed and queezy
only to find it in the middle of our bed
folded neatly
where our sides had been touching
through the night

I finally allow myself to be this
peaceful
Floating in a bath
of liquid bliss                                           s
I drained my tub of tears                e
weeks ago                                    l
And now above suds               b
of sarcasm                              b
and coping comedic       u
prism rainbow              b
I let my healthy glowing body
be clean
of all those days
***** with dreariness
I ring out
my cleansed tresses
That used to be
waterlogged with weighted worry
Warm and right out of the tumble dry
of your airy love
I wrap our soft yellow world
around my dripping body
and the fresh beauty
of your devotion
sits, settled along my
purified pores

You have allowed a baptism of brightness
into my life.

Clothe me in
your beautiful threaded
words
create afghans
and silly uneven
sweaters
of kindness
around my curved
core

Feed my frenzied
gaping mouth
(in awe of you)
with
fruitful adventure
and the sustenance
of surrealism

Quench my thirsting
sponge soul
with your soothing
tea of tenderness

Warm my tired
tiny hands
with your sunny
disposition
and mittens of
merriment

Aw, darling forget all of my demands
Just sit next to me and                                    be.

Oh silly,
wandering,
pale,
petite
heart
you travel miles
from your owner
exploring
the beauty of the globe
without  
rib cage, torso, and body
you finicky
flighty
little thing
you annoy me so
you jump from
stranger's hearts
to stranger's hearts
lavishing in their adoration
and unusual beauty
you trapse around
masquereding yourself
as an authentic barer
of real love
a skilled actress
convincing
this world
that your owner,
me
is right there with you
all along
Oh you tormenting
rapid
active
amber *****

Here I am
always stretched
in two places at once.

They enter my office
and I am their landfill
They take a cozy seat
on my blue heartbroken couch
They unload all of their garbage
One by one
a banana peel of tears
an alluminum leftover
of regret
and as their tainted trash
piles to the cieling
I take it all from them
with nothing in return
I offer them a clean towel
and an uncluttered
clear hope
And I genuinely
love them for it

I will take all of your dirt
and brown disgust
you've held in bins
all these years
once a week
as long as you want
my beautiful dears

If I were a poet
I would know the
perfect
word
to describe
how it feels
the moment I open my eyes
and realize
it was but a fleeting dream
I don't even remember what you look like
in this physical world
only a blurred image
residing in REM

If I were a poet
I could print the whispers
and wonders
and describe with diction
The raging burning battle
with my conscience
that created such
bruising and anger and irritation

the scars those thoughts have left me
They rise
with each moment of intimacy
even after forgiveness
has been mouthed over      and over       and over again

If I were a poet I'd
have the most beautiful acceptable
apology

But alas
I am no poet
or pious princess

Nothing ceases
It's always there reminding me
a personal private world
of pain

Shame
I beg you
Die with all of
last years deciet
do not                                         follow me.

We wrote prayers
The written lyrics of our heart
Cursive words
Hugging perforated edges
Of loose leaf love
After our souls delivered
The message to a larger hope
In floating lovely regard
We then neatly folded the edges
Of the secret need
That had been in hiding
Much like an unnacceptable
Anne Frank diary
From a past snarky society
And we placed our individual
Sacred script
In one another's palms
As a promise to never allow
Something so beautiful
In a tiny attic again

I'm smiling as I write this
feeling a burst of bright
light up my insides
My hair is bouncy
from all the floating thoughts
of beauty
twirling throughout my brain

I have a smirky
quirky little step
and I  might swim up to the ceiling
in the ocean of glee
that surrounds me
the little fish
of freedom
will join on the journey
of joy

My lashes are catching
stars shooting from my pupils
instead of thick aligator tears of sadness
And I'm frolicking on cloud nine
a cozy little comfort of cotton

My darling it's true
I'm ******* finally over you.

If only I were a type "a" personality
Then maybe I wouldn't be trapped by
All those that represent
Other letters of the alphabet

A free bird, caged by freedom

This may be the first time
I've let myself
Just be
listening to the blue calm
flow smoothly
through my veins
I hear my breath
shaped to the soft movement
of my lungs
This pearl energy
shifting
and comforting
the entity of me
Here I sit alone
independent from others
accepting
the

me.

In my ideal world
We would all speak in movement
a beautiful dance
interpretive
much like a whimsical
musical
I'd weave
wringing out
socially acceptable action
soaring through the air
on wings of weirdness
There would be paragraphs,
novels
all written
with the bending of my back
the twirling of fingers
and twisting
and flipping of my  
crazy curly coils
of hair on my head
Poetry would seep through the muscles
of my body
and you would respond
only in embrasive motility
fluidly moving
to song and unspoken language
and we would all be a frenzied
foolish
*interpretive dance

After last week
I think I fell ill
with agoraphobia
Or perhaps my mind
retreated
turning hermit
and hidden
Maybe my thoughts
were trying to convince
my mouth to become
mute
My heart could have
tempted my limbs
to refrain from making
my routine tired
sloppy movements
out of bed
It could have been your
words
They could have gotten through the cracks
of my protective skull
and paralyzed
my inner spirit
to connect and inspire
and fly
Or maybe I was turned into a vampire
over the course
of the dreary long
tar night
Count must have snuck in
under the tiny slit of my door
and drained the life within me
forcing me to refrain
from light and the beauty
of a newborn day

Whatever it is...

I don't want to hear a single
syllable uttered
in my presence
Not a single w-o-r-d
hurled into my environment
like a sneaky soapy "I" or "me" or...
Today all I want is to
barricade myself in this
gorgeously empty room
and believe that I am the only person
on this planet
and that I don't owe a
a ******* thing
to anyone
especially

conversation

Mary Poppins
bags underneath my eyes
you've pulled out umbrellas
and towels
and cups
and bowls
trying to catch these

t
   e  
      a
         r
           s

I knew if I waited long enough
you'd call
every bone in your body
aching for release
every nerve ending
yearning for wrong
to be reminded
of my temptress ways
through my luring
soft voice spilling
onto your black and white world
bringing color back to your pupils
senses back to heightened existential
awareness
all of it makes you feel like a man
being reminded of my curves, my arched back
too much of a woman
for you to handle
I whisper "hello, doll"
filling up the dark empty space
of speech bubbles
that have been hanging in the air
for weeks
you and I,
cliche comics
trapped in the pages
of lust and illusion

She hits his heart all the way out
To left field
Where dandelion lies have sprouted
And mounds of ***** secrets form
She rounds first base
Smashing her cleated soul
Into each chalky fine line
Reminding her of the
Boundaries she's crossed
one too many times
She digs her heels
Into each swelled base
Inflated with promiscuity
Racing, fleeing from each opponent
With men's hearts stuffed in her polyester pockets
As she arrives to her destined home run
She doesn't feel a bit at home
Her weary body slides in
Hoping to be burried
Under the loose infield dirt
Hidden from
Hungry raging fans
And critics
Forever

I breathe out
and inhale you in
sweet white oxygyn
reaching upward
through my nostrils
traveling to my depleted lungs
I drink you up
first in small scared sips
and then I'm gulping
the warm kindness
the authentic core-coating love
that I have only found one other time
in my mother's eyes
that has been there, this whole time
a devotion that demands tears
I let you own me
You wrap your tired arms around me
they've been trying for these five torn years
and you finally feel another human being
in that embrace
Your body like a blanket
covering me
finally allowed to protect me
from the harm I had created so wickedly for myself,
a *******, paralyzed in life
I surrender from all of this pain
conforming under your skin
allowing all that makes you so
incredible

"Five years," you say
and today begins
the first day our love is truly

shared.