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 Apr 2014 mars
KRB
crisis chat will
only get you so far--
throws you a lifevest when
you’re drowning but doesn’t
tell you how to use it,
lets you flounder in the sea
uncontrollably gasping for air,
drowns you in the issues
watches you
as the current sweeps
     you
             away
and then tells you it’s going to be okay.
 Apr 2014 mars
robin
they took my hand, held it,
told me how soft it was. {you've never worked a day in your life.}
maybe ive lost track of myself,
forgotten the present for
a glorified past;
i had callouses there.rough armor-skin scraping my arms, or
i thought i did, but
you can never trust the body and how it undoes its own defenses.
i wore away my purpose and
i am waiting to believe i am real.
there are gaps in my mouth and when i breathe i hiss; you told me dont worry,
i still love you,
i made a necklace from your teeth.

her shirt rides up and i think of kissing the small of her back.
somehow i have grown soft,
my thighs give to any hand that presses.my arms have lost their harshness.
i feel unsafe.my clavicle is too thin to be a shield, you told me
you like the way
my skin yields to you, you asked me why
i grow my fingernails so long.
have i always been this vulnerable?i dont like how fragile i feel,
delicate and weak, this is not me.this is not me.
i remember being sharp edges to dig into ribs.
crude bone,
body strong enough at least to hold the door shut.  
identity strong enough at least to sketch a line between me
and you.
stark boundaries of light and dark make me so afraid
that i blur it all to gray.
the back of my hand is streaked red
from all the lipstick ive rubbed off, strangers ask
how i hurt myself so much.when you left your lipstick on my mouth,
i wore it like a bruise
and lost it on the mouth of a nameless boy.
i never meant to grow up like this.i do not feel like myself and
i do not feel anything for you
though i want to.do you remember the first word you realized meant more
than its definition,
the sum of its parts?
my mother told me my twin died in the womb and when i found the word 'implosion,' i knew
nothing would fit better.
i am a slow implosion.
pragmatic destruction, dissociating others,
shrapnel within, never without.
the roof back home is sloped, i think of slipping
while it rains.the trails here are gnarled.
the trees are too tall to climb.
look at this:
im pressing rabbit's feet into your hands, im weaving 4-leaf clovers
into your hair.im filling your pockets with coins. im just unlucky in life, you said.
unlucky in who i give pieces of myself to.
im always betting on the wrong horse, falling for bluffs and parlor tricks,
misdirection, legerdemain,
sleight-of-hand.

take them, i dont want them, you need them more than me.
i dont want luck and complacency, i want to grow rough again, i want to feel safe.
you love me and it hurts, i want my teeth back.you knocked them out but that does not make them yours.
maybe this is how its supposed to be, maybe this is how it works,
maybe love is a ****** brick and soft bruised arms but all i want is my edges back,
caution tape, this girl is
a demolition zone.
you are not in this room and this is what matters.
you have never been in this room and
this is what matters.
im humming to myself so i dont hear your name
 Apr 2014 mars
Dorothy
He walked around the crowded streets, streets filled with party goers and drunken teens
He didn’t know where he was going, his mind housed those gruesome images
Replaying in his head over and over again
It was a Friday night, although it really didn’t matter because he never had plans regardless of the day
He had bigger things that he had to mentally face
A psychological sciamachy if you will– an imaginary enemy that he wanted….no needed to ****.
It left his mind all dark and dreary, filled his heart with raging fury
And he couldn’t understand why or how he got like that.
In school he was the definition of a social outcast, not fit to be amongst the cherished few
but if only they knew because the biggest outcast in the school
Was also the strongest, for if they were to even attempt to take on his struggles
I doubt any of them would still be alive to tell their story
But back to that night out on the streets, the night he was stuck walking aimlessly
He ended up on top a roof..staring up at the clear black sky admiring its site, not one star visible because of the bright city lights
He didn’t care, he was caught in some trance
Even with his glossed eyes you wouldn’t really know the state he was currently in at first glance
Cold and disheveled he had nothing else left, he was alone even with the dozens of people next to, behind and ahead of him
Stepped on the edge of the building and whispered “Its already broken”
The ones who were once strong sometimes fall

And he was one of them.
 Apr 2014 mars
raw with love
you're not your hair:
you can cut it dye it curl it straighten it shave it bend it twist it;

you're not your face:
you can hide it under layers of make-up you can put on lenses you can change your face in a matter of minutes;

you're not your skin:
you can cut it draw on it bite it tear it;

you're not your body:
you can lose weight gain weight;

you're not your clothes:
strip them off;

never reduce
yourself
to
a colour
a number
an adjective
a noun

never reduce
yourself
to a simple
word

you are
the thoughts you have at 3 a.m.
the lame jokes you tell your friends
the art you create
the books you read
the pages you have dog-eared
the quotes you have highlighted
the coffee you never finished drinking
the movie you watch after midnight, wrapped in a blanket
the chocolate cake you ate that night with that girl
the slice of pizza you could've eaten but you gave to your best friend
the kiss that still burns on your lips
the cigarettes that sting in your lungs long after you smoked them
the dreams you dream
the worlds you build in your mind
the song that's stuck in your head
the moments you're in the shower
the iloveyous
the ikindaguessilikeyous
the icareforyous
the seeyoulaters
the words you say
the smiles you smile
the laughs you laugh
the loves you love
the hates you hate

you are
an entire universe:
you're stars
and planets
and galaxies
and asteroids
and comets

you are a cosmos
trapped in
a shell.

you are
a gazillion worlds
locked in
a human cage.

never think
of yourself
as of
anything
less.
 Mar 2014 mars
The Pioneer
After you were gone
You never really were
A wisp of you here
A flash of you there
Everywhere
At breakfast I remember your tips on how to cook
When choosing a song I feel the urge to start with one of your favorites
I wake up and go to say good morning
My hand hangs empty and cold
My walks are lonely and speechless
    You are gone from me physically
But you are stamped into my life
More you than me
Always there
In flashes
And wisps
 Mar 2014 mars
Tom Leveille
2002:
today i kicked the door
to history off it's hinges
my jealous frame:
still too proud to say a word
it seems my folks forgot
to pencil in growth marks
cause they thought their boy
would never grow out of small breath
******* dead, years now buried
and i bare his name
too many syllables
for my father to go back
fish & play football
to stand in the yard and play catch

1994:
my mom, the bombshell in retrospect
broke her back in her sleep
a thousand times
since the stairwell in 87'
she still sits for spills
post nuclear about settling
now from the couch
she's a weather report
spouting nonsense
that makes my father
grow grey, crack remotes
& slam doors to dark rooms
abandoning ship
for "cheers" & "scienfeld"
while my mother
sometimes forgets
and sets his place at the table
and my appetite is abducted
by family photos
my mother says things like
"go see your brother today"
-- Johnny's long gone
don't you remember?
we buried him
the day your smile died

2014:
you are inches from me
******* a stray hair
caught in the fabric of your coat
the last remnants of a dog
we laid to rest last week
and here we are
in the hospital again
people don't shake like dogs
finality is found
in the eyes of humans
passing archways
into shallow rooms
where plague and prayer
are the only songs sung
round the stagnant clocks
it makes me wonder
if the clipboards cry
over being the last thing
someone ever writes on
take a number, have a seat
stay a while
i am back, 7 years old
& there are different doors now
they buried the ones
you kicked in that night in '92
when my lungs
were filled with holy water
you never stopped smoking
*i never grew out of asthma
 Mar 2014 mars
i
sins (10w)
 Mar 2014 mars
i
deadly sins,
              written on your
              dazed mind and
              *scarred body.
 Mar 2014 mars
i
blue dark
 Mar 2014 mars
i
sitting in the blue dark,
drinking a vanila latte
under the dim lights,
she has caught someone's eye.

kissing in the blue dark,
they have found each other
in the ***** bathroom of the bar,
leaning on the used sink,
their lips connecting
and teeth colliding.
In the broken kitchen chair he sits
Weeping the tears of a killer
Face buried into the palms of his grisly hands
He sobs uncontrollably for he knows what these hands have done
He cries as a child might having seen his parents murdered
Gasping and struggling to draw in a full breath
Snot running from his nose, curling over the stubble of his upper lip
With a clenched fist he wipes this away
Rage building in his veins, hatred, and remorse
His face grows red as he shakes uncontrollably with anger
Unsure of what to do with himself he rises quickly to his feet
His chair crashing back to the floor behind him
He paces the kitchen back and forth
Feet padding monotonously over checkered linoleum
Suddenly, abruptly, he stops, his gaze drifting to the counter top
As he catches sight of the skinless corpse he screams
A blood curdling scream that chills to the bone
Unable to bare the sight of his disembodied victim any longer
He barrels out of the kitchen
Crashing through doors, splinters of wood marking his trail
In the bathroom he now stands
Sulking in shame before a ***** mirror, staring down at his bare feet
Slowly, he raises his head, eyes squeezed shut
Fearing to find what he might see when he opens them
He pauses here for several moments, collecting his thoughts
Breathing deeply, hoarsely, sporadically huffing
Mustering all of his courage, he makes this final leap, opening his eyes
In the mirror before him he sees all too clearly himself
Wearing a skin that is not his own
Face, hands, feet, all that are exposed
His own pale skin standing out in bold contradiction
To the beautifully bronzed hollow man that he wears
His pale and bony knuckles crash repeatedly into the face of the mirror
Over and over again the thud and the crunch
Broken skin and shattered glass
Blood now smeared across what little reflective surface remains
At last he can see himself no more
Slumping down into a ball on the floor
He sits alone and rocks
The mere shell of a man remains
With dripping hands he tears away a patch of flesh from his thigh
Groping the floor blindly his hand closes over a shard of glass
He is now far too numb to feel pain, dead inside
Gripping tightly to the broken glass this broken man begins to write
Carving his apology into his thigh
Part #2; see "Permanent Press" for Part #1. http://hellopoetry.com/poem/permanent-press-pt-1/
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