ombré shadows
hazelnut health help
sparkling necks please
come back to my chest
cure the apple bruises
the hardness of the night
the zeal and lust for all things natural
help my wandering bones
clouds perfumed with smoke
moans that shiver my brain
faces lit by the scenery
the blank walled scenery
angels floating on your wallpaper
let minds fly down
into a cavern. maybe
let the yellow yawns echo throughout
the stars into your
sickness.
**** me
to make me more like you
and so if I sing into air
it's heavenly air

please forgive me for,
my weak knees, my cruel eyes, my hungry smile, the curves of my body, the curves of my lip, my angry brain, my sick brain, my tired brain, my cold fingertips, my impure hair, my over pleading tears, my ****** fingernails, my faintly lit neck,
forgive me for everything in me that's
faintly lit.
I have not the courage to turn on all the lights.

outside: Help needed! Feed the children!
inside: weak knees, white apple flesh skin (it's not their fault they were born in a doll house)
outside: empty soup kitchens, blind volunteers
inside: not enough light to grow, tiny bones, tug dead hair, find something to do
outside: God help the children!
inside: minds buzzing for frantic change
outside: give them more make them eat
inside: shivering mirrors, shivering thoughts, sickness and rotten fridges
outside: you're perfect the way you are
inside: change me, hair pieces all over the ground
outside: life!
inside: hidden in a rib cage
outside: just try
inside: filmy eyes splatter raindrops, fall into the black lagoon bulging from beneath

I hope they can live the way I couldn't;
slowly,
and in the light.

so the wind has blown
over your head. (again)
you're still sickly
come back to the ground
or stand and watch,
watch your veins grow darker
(forests of black ivy
all over your wrists)
*****
over and over and over and over
like when they lock you in a room,
or you do it yourself.
you've hated and you've loved,
when everything tears you
to papery shreds,
yawning walls,
dead grey blistered mouths
& the moons getting brighter
until it swallows you whole
with your mind buzzing
kaleidoscope-everything
hands sweating for
this frozen wasteland
lusts for drops
of sweet scented turquoise air
and like the rest of your life
you've trampled yourself again
you're like a bruised sack of bones
again
time to do the dishes
they can never leave you alone.

the sun has beautiful blood
you've watched it splash across the horizon
over the ocean,
like a fireworks show
watched it with cold eyes
feeling victorious
like a man again (if you are one)
like you've survived another day.
watch the suns demise
remember the reflection on your face
take a picture;
it's your favorite time of day!
you won't blink
you'll let it linger in your brain
& you'll wake up with silky sick nightmares
and you won't remember why
you're all grown up
you're all lies
but maybe the first time you saw
a sunset
you cried

there's a ghost in this house
& teeth marks in my tongue
from the times I've had to stop myself.
if you want me to walk with you,
put me in a greenhouse
so I won't complain about
the frigid air.
hold me close,
not when I cry
but when our eyes meet
and there's tears in mine.
and when I turn into
that ghost
when I become
hallowed out and dry and sick,
like a cicada;
(it will happen)
when my brain is reduced to
leftover spaghetti mush
and my eyes are glazed over
glazed like the cake I would never eat
if it's you, you can touch me

oh my God it's so cold here

to the humans with the glassy eyes,
i know they've been hurt before
(your eyes,
thrown against the wall,
like a jar filled with rotten marbles)
cauliflower-clouded mind
red-scented sleep
& i pray to God
those pills dissolve in your
sanitized hands.
don't cry when it's over; cry now
i can see milky white
stars in your eyes
and soft pink
bubble gum-flavored clouds
and lazy green rivers
and violent violet nights
and a deep howl in you
when you think you can't go on.
and you burn yourself
with empty looks
and break yourself
by lying down
and **** yourself
by forgetting that the lightning storm
ever came.
flying doesn't always set people free.
remember that.

in this cube
of angular anger
there's a town
made of clouds.
sour wind
sounds like bed sheets,
& indigo solar radiation.
don't explain:
our eyes are the same,
but the depressants seem to be
gooeyer in
your world.
find a way
to create a rubber
convenience store.
(to buy squishy cigarettes)
build glass palaces
so the world can
see you strip down.
your world.

and you'd like that.

There’s broken glass in my foot
clear symmetrical triangles
dangling off my foot
like a dazzling chandelier.
But pain.
like a dragons claw,
like a witches fingernail
cut deep
and the oozing, dripping,
thick scarlet liquid
seeping over the bathroom tiles,
reflects my dazed face.
Where am I?
My pale, white, finger
extends and dips into the
red
and now the lines on my hands are all
red
and my eyes blur with the color
red.
I walk down stairs.
Isn't everything romanticized?
Red flowers,
      red skin,
              red lips,
                            red breath.
But the eyes,
the eyes are red
and I suppose that is
what really impales me.

forget the rain on your skin
and fall asleep
there will be dry days
but not today
don't let your mind wander too
far
stay alive
you're like a broken swan
in the clutch of the moon
and the monsoon
your weeping matches the rain
and your shivers match the
lightning
stay awake
don't let the green blades make you cry
don't your mind wander
too far

lying on my mattress
or floor
staring into the
pure
white ceiling.
Thinking, breathing, wanting to scream.
Everything's perfect.
except for the white ceiling, of course

I'm in the grips of a sleet storm
helpless on a Thursday morning,
walking on a deserted field,
where the boys play some pretty sport.
they say they're in love
but they leave it in winter
so what was the cost to start it?

slowly stepping through the woods
careful not to ***** myself
or tear my skirt
or lose my mind
on those crimson thorns.
In the back of my mind
i hear a siren, it's real
here it comes, there it goes,
silence.

That's the silence of someone calling for help.

I'm in love with the pines
at the edge of the road
not the road itself.
hot headlights search me while zooming by
search through layers of clothing
nod, say "alright"
and they're gone.
If I look back I glare
but that seems to be rude now.

down at the traffic light
i'll cross the street when I want,
but for right now i'll study my
glossy shoes.
there's pieces of sky on them

and there's an old empty house behind me
it's paralyzed and hurt
and people drive by
it uses sparse pines to cover itself
from uncanny stares.
it would like to dissolve,
maybe today
or tomorrow
but right now it's getting dark.

and i'm trying to find my way home

flower girl and jackhammer,
street worker, cigarette lighter,
desolation in death,
exhaustion in life, you can buy your desire for just a
noisy day
nowadays
he shoves and sells
and hustles about
and buries his grimy hand in his
hot pockets
hot hot dusty hell
There's a faceless woman eating helplessness
turn around to see fight
no fight in anyone's eyes
restless and old
and worn, like a worm