yesterday's dye still shines on your face
I put it there, in every beloved place
you hated the way my hands on you feel
but to me, this way you will look more real

kalina and glitter and fresh graveyard sand
are finer than jewels when applied by my hand
your skin feels like lace, it is already cold
oh why must you die? why must you grow old?

will you come back when god throws you away?
will the devil take you down to hell to stay?
or will you come back on the wings of a bird?
sing me a folk song, make your voice heard.

there is only one
flickering lightbulb
separating this world
from the next

the struggling light
can only touch
the infinite jars
of red kompot

and the worn rifle
propped against the bricks.
it is dusty.
it has been too peaceful.

a spider hunts
her next meal
but instead finds herself
thrown around in time.

what decade is it, again?
in this dim light,
every photo looks like
it is in black and white.

after the party
dim light
streams through the window
the sun is thinking about rising

the chair you were in
is already cold
it looks so empty
it looks so forlorn

the house still smells unfamiliar
faintly of your scent
faintly of the liquor
still soaking into the tablecloth

the clock in the basement
chimes five times
muffled by
the blanket i am lying in

muffled by the roomful of
discarded wrapping paper
and a plaid scarf
that someone forgot

was it yours?
will you come back to get it?
will it bother you if i slept with it?
will it bother you if i cried into it?

i can only sleep listening
to clips of your voice.
does that scare you?

when you are alive you remember
the taste of dried blood and salty tears
tears you cried in a past life half remembered
soaking the ratty fur of an old stuffed animal
trying to remember
what it feels like to be sung to and held
poems written in sand
and on skin
and in the brain
are lost lost lost forever
photos that watch
and photos that are lost
photos of you that don't look like you
photos of people you forgot the name of
and places you've never been to
photos of people you've never met but you love anyways
photos of him that make you feel
like your heart is going to spill over
blood and glitter coating every surface you touch
don't touch me
don't touch me
don't touch me
i'm unstable
i'm not real
i'm not real
i'm not real

i cant
                                                         tell the
              difference
                                                                                               between
                                               rea
                                                                                      lity
         and dreams
                                                        any more?
                                                                                                    ?

the days of summer's heat
the scent of stale air
dry grass under my feet
wisteria in my hair

the bugs sing out loud
as the sun goes to bed
heavy purple clouds
float around my head

warm august nights
the asters sway like stars
twinkling faerie lights
bind dreams in honey jars

i want to drink the rain
straight from the storm
i want to feel its pain
i want to feel its warmth