rolled down windows
blow cold winter air.
where are we going?
I don't really care.

snow speckled hands
catching the sky,
laughing and singing
and feeling so high.

the radio plays languages
I don't understand
but that doesn't matter
when I'm holding your hand.

I want to get lost
on those foreign roads
I want to be buried
where nobody goes.

Here are the long, stagnant days
when the wind no longer stirs the leaves,
gilded with drought.

The heavy air settles close to the ground,
smothering everything but children’s laughter
and the droning calls of cicadas.

Which would I rather be?
Both of them run free through the stale air,
and both die when the heat dissipates.

A child stoops to pick one up,
marvelling at its diaphanous wings
before crushing it in his little hand.

The crunching sound cuts through the silence
as green liquid oozes through the cracks in the shell
and the cracks in the child’s fingers.

Wiping his hand on his pants, he moves on
and discards the corpse
without a care.

Then, he skips off into the distance
scuffing the dirt in that familiar rhythm
kicking up a cloud behind him.

After the sun sets and the cicadas have gone quiet,
I follow his tracks with a small plastic bag.
Gingerly, I pick up the corpse.

Like the child, I admire
how it's wings shine in the moonlight
and slip it into my bag.

The trail of scuff marks lead to a playground,
dripping with the smell of decay.
I cannot see where it is coming from.

I perch myself on the swing
and notice that I have outgrown it,
as the cold plastic digs into my hips.

From my vantage point, I stare blankly into the drying field.
All is silent, all is still, as my ghost pale legs
kick through the air to move the swing.

My childhood went down the drain with the heavy July rains,
was left to evaporate after the early morning thunderstorms
and now I am in stasis with the thick August air.

have you ever had a dream
so good
that you felt light crashing through the sky
thought you'd wake up when you died
but you didn't?

you can dissolve into chemicals
so sweet
that the devil's face is in your eyes
and your hands are pinned by your side
but you aren't afraid?

you can caress that nightmare
be brave
and wake up feeling like a ray of light
be proud that you survived the night
to fall in love again?

Floating
like a particle on a breeze,
like gentle falling ray
we float through the void.

Of hands reaching out,
catching only transient tendrils
tangling through our fingers
like liquid silk.

Capture me in a jar
and use my glow
to light your way
to give me purpose.

Wear our tiny cages
around your powerful neck
and we illuminate your teeth-
use them to crush your way out.

Use them to dissipate the void
into gently falling mist
of knowledge we can finally comprehend
reality we can cup in our hands.

But please, do not forget
to gently smash the jars
so we will not be tied to you
as you too, softly decay.

what is it
about me
that makes people
want to hurt me?
can they smell the blood
like a pack of sharks?
no matter how many times
i sew myself back together
my wounds still weep and wail
"easy prey."
docile as a puppy,
weaker than a fawn,
stupid as a child.

i should have bit
the hand that feeds
before it became
the hand that beats

rotten lies rise
between my teeth
my silver tongue
and the stench of meat

now i could devour
the whole **** world
just to protect
that scared little girl

but i still can't
stand up to you
what the hell
did you do?

like a rabbit
i'm light on my feet
must be the lucky
clover i eat
i was born in
a wolf's mouth
i felt his fangs
but i didn't cry out
i know to be quiet,
i know how to hide
they can't get me
when i'm inside
i know how to listen
i know how to wait
i can hear when their voices
are tainted by hate
but most of all
i know how to run
my big white ears
catching the sun

the sun burns
angel feathers
dog barks
choking on purity
an alarm in the distance and
thousands wake up
but can't remember their names
the tulip closed
around the beetle
and says child,
i will protect you
when black ink pours
out the ears
make it stop!
oh god, please
make it stop

bella donna
blurry eyes
rabbit masks
are our disguise
delirious
heart beat
hold me against
your body heat
poison glazed
shining teeth
you will be
the death of me
moon speckled
pale skin
datura and
the scent of sin
devouring
like starved beasts
my bloodied heart
will be our feast

long legs
snow white
lips painted crimson
she glides
like a wind up doll
but was that a twitch?
a creak, a shiver?
it's because dolls
are more beautiful
when bones stick out
with coquettish doe eyes
fluttering, pleading
as snow settles
on her curled hair
and does not melt.

empty, empty
hollow like fangs
hollow like eyes
that hang by a string
observe everything
observe everything.

summer is all

bare feet on concrete
diaphanous heartbeat
dustings of sand
and holding your hand
sun bleached hair
monarch winged air
prismatic sprinkler spray
and long, hazy days

bored, we scratch our legs
with blades of dry grass
watching the clouds in the slushie blue sky
eating our fill of cherries (they stained my dress!)
and floating, floating, floating away
on the dandelion seeds of childish wishes

angel-sweet
docile
like a puppy
in a pink collar
i don't bark any more
i don't even flinch
i let it happen
i must like it,
don't i?

let the memory of me
fade
into the night

forget my voice
forget my touch
heal your scars

you don't need me
anymore.

i am
god's mistake
vicious, aggressive,
full of hate

i'm a dog
with sharp, sharp teeth
they grow back
when i've been beat

i sin and sin
and don't confess
don't give a ****
don't even stress

**** your god
and **** the devil
i am myself
i'm ******* special

When you want to cut yourself open
and offer your viscera to someone
people will come at you with hate.
so be the stronger person and
smile.
but this time,
show your teeth.

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

pillow den
plush pink
cancel plans
stay in to think
blood on the walls
trash on the floor
i don't care
close the door

Little lost kitten curled up in her cocoon,
with a halo of the moon,
a halo of the moon.

Liar, liar with the calico fur,
but hear how I purr,
hear how I purr.

I want a lover to keep me warm,
keep me safe from the storm,
safe from my storm.

Curled up in the closet, talking on the phone
I want to go home.
I don't have a home.

Damaged little kitten with the tiniest mew
Am I safe with you?
Am I safe with you?

No matter what objects
you hurl into the void in abject rage
it will still be empty.

and no matter what thoughts
you send through the mirror
the reflection still cuts

and there is still a hole.
An abyss to look into-
pray nothing looks back.

Do not allow yourself
to be distorted, to be removed
by your own hands

by your own mind
and its perception
of emptiness and void.

I like my reflection better
when it is dark.
So I can see nothing but echoes.

I like my thoughts better
when it is dark.
So I can feel nothing but rage.

i am a
snow splattered
stained glass window
shingles
falling off worn roofs
glitter
from a church dress
under your nails
the sound of a child
drawing portraits of the devil
a bunny's death scream
spent fireworks found
the next morning
a lullaby
a child sings to herself
an old graveyard
no one visits anymore
(except the coyotes)
lay a rose bouquet for me?

skipping on tile floors
and singing out loud
a smile on my face
my head in the clouds
bathrobe sleeves
soaked with tears
the jangle of a pill bottle
stuffed rabbit ears
lithium salts
and jumping for joy
will i make a bad decision?
whose life will i destroy?
will it be my own
with the butterfly knife?
will i tangle myself up
in someone else's life?

that day the sky was
****** mary blue
lying in snow
making angels with you
there are two scars
where they took my wings
one for each person
holding my strings
im still a puppet
with a hollowed out heart
thats why i fill it
with trinkets and art
thats why i feel
so bad when you're gone
and thats why im writing
this silly song
tomorrow ill be empty
and they'll see the hole
fill it with garbage
that's always been my role

there is a pair
of angel wings
hanging
on a peg in my closet
dust dulls
their snow brilliance
but they are there
as a reminder

i can peel back the sky
and fly away
if i can't take it here
anymore
******* the wings
and jump
******* the wings
with a belly full of pills

most of the time
i don't think of them
but they are still there
old friend
their plush embrace
brushes over my scars
maybe they won't need to
come with me
when i die

take your thumb,
dip it
in your weeping wounds
and smear the gore
on my face.

you have stained
the folk dress
that my grandmother made for me
but I do not care
because I love you.

If you were to undress me
you would watch
as I peeled off and discarded my wings.
You trusted the mirage
that covered up the void
behind my eyes.
My existence is nothing but illusion.
My halo is nothing but mirrors.

I close my eyes and wish I was dead
(and so, I must again write about you)
because you only love me inside my head.

I try to calm down, but only see red
(I know this is bad, I'm afraid of me too)
I close my eyes and wish I was dead.

Some days I can scarcely get out of bed
this is quite the hole that I've sunk into,
because you only love me inside my head.

Why can't I think about anything instead?
there's so much I still need to do
I close my eyes and wish I was dead.

Something's wrong with me, I said
Something they would never help me through
because you only love me inside my head.

Out of this body my spirit fled,
into the night, on white wings we flew.
I close my eyes and wish I was dead
because you only love me inside my head.

It is sweet to look up at the moon at night,
and know that she sings me a song.
In every moment that I take to pay attention,
to be distracted, to become lost.
Perhaps to be someone else.
Floating by on borrowed time.

Try on a different identity,
perhaps one that will be better liked.
Pluck the tail from a falling star,
and wear it, as a crown.
Unfortunately here, there are no stars to be seen.
We tried our best to drown out their light.
With the harsh glare of our own.

And then I found myself floating in space
on a pair of ink stained wings.
Watching myself walking in circles,
around the edge of the black hole.
Never falling in, never pulling away.
Living in perfect stasis, echoed throughout the universe.
Each instance of me, a radiant shadow.

Each instance of me, a masked queen
sprawled on a throne of falling stars.
Watching myself ride the cascade,
but unable to stop the spiral.
Finally- we would cross the event horizon.
Finally- we would be plunged across existence.
Finally- we would be able to feel the rain.

The sweet rain, that now soaks through my clothes.
It must have been an hour, maybe two.
Someone is probably looking for me,
but which instance of me are they interested in?
The one who watches from afar?
Or any of the other echoes.
Because I could fracture again, at a moment’s notice.

With a blink, the streetlights turn off,
leaving me bathing in twilight.
As the sun struggles to rise for they day,
I notice the last note of the last morning star.
And I can focus again.
Even the sun and the stars
are a little like me.

Sometimes the rain is invigorating;
washing away a year’s worth of black dust,
proving that yes, we are capable of forgiving.

Sometimes it rains so hard
that the unopened flowers are pelted off the trees
before they have a chance to open or bear fruit,
starving out this year’s clutch of birds
as the bedraggled petals rest upon
the ever hopeful eggshells.

Sometimes my mind
feels like it's flying away from my body
traveling at 200 miles per hour
into another dimension.

Now, be closer to me.
Close enough to smell the blood through your neck,
close enough to absorb me,
so you can understand how much I love you.

Sometimes my mind
feels like it is trapped
in a well of chemicals
in a cage of stars.

Now, stay away from me.
The version of you I made up is enough,
the version of you that exists scares me,
so please join me in a daydream instead.

Cryptic terror angels follow me each day,
I wish I was better at scaring people away.

The rain battered branches
thrash and shudder
in the dim light of one window.

One person,
still awake,
deep into the stormy night.

Listening to
the howling coyotes-
they were not here last year.

They howl for the desert winds
that they miss so much,
but only the thunder responds.

A low, resonant growl.
I am tired too.

As the universe expands-
We slowly drift apart.
The space between us will grow forever
and I’m okay with that.
I now understand that each of us are
unfathomably
eternally
perfectly
alone.
In our own heads.

Occasionally
a single intrepid photon slips through the veil
and I smile when I see it.
We were never really meant to be close,
but I am still happy to see
that you’re okay too.

you may pick
the wild berries
but be mindful
of the thorns.

wolves live here
and they love
the smell of blood
after dark.

there is not much difference
between lips stained red
with berries
or with blood.

dip them in sugar
in the old wooden bowl
and feast
on summer's warmth

there is not much difference
between the girl in red
and her dark, dark eyes
and the wild wolf.

dappled light
falling
like rain
through paper leaves
and lazy rivers
of rushing dreams.

illuminating
the cold, grasping hands
of those below.
we wanted to believe
that they were asleep
but they never were.

Just when I felt that I could get to know you
you slipped through my fingers
as the dread rose again to press my lips shut.

The words did not flow naturally
but were strained
repetitive

lifeless.

In a single pause, we both learned
that I am far too alien for this world,
far too detached from reality

far too afraid of knowing, or being known.
With a hesitant smile, I turn away,
knowing that it will be the last.

My skin bruises where you touch,
threatening to burst like a delicate peach
to coat your fingers in warm viscera.

My uncanny senses easily find you in a crowd
so that I can avoid you
and spare us the awkwardness.

I never knew what was wrong,
what fundamental spark I am missing,
that allows me to neatly clip through others

without being noticed.
I never was able to decide
whether the strange matter that makes up my body

Is a blessing for allowing me to hide
or a curse for not allowing me to connect,
to be swinging on that uniquely human wavelength.

everyone writes about nature
they want to hear the birds
and weave a story like a flower crown
watch the sun as it goes down

but i can't stop writing about houses,
old and tired, new and perfect
the horrible things that they have seen
the sickly air hanging in between

the moon will always be here
and i thank her for that
these places will crumble and mold
and i am thankful for that

one day one day i can be
a flower or a star or a fawn
after i scrub the repeating
repeating memories out of my carpet

the forsythia is in bloom
and the birds twitter among her branches
lovely ones, with white bellies

they scatter when he approaches
and grabs a branch,
twisting it off,
petals floating to the wet ground below

oh, stolen innocence
easter sunday spinning in a yellow church dress
the little girl is laid in her grave
and covered by a flock of rabbits
sniffing about her blank eyes

how he loved those blank, blank eyes

the silver scalpel
scrapes
against steel blue veins

sparks
the sickening metallic sound
like a gasp

sparks
the sickening metallic smell
of fresh blood

sleep well,
precious one.
sweet dreams.

bleak fields
quivering
under an oppressive wind
trying not to cry
trying not to cry

when it comes
pouring down
when thunder splits the sky
i will watch them die
i will watch them die

i talk, and she listens
how steadily she listens
to every anxious whisper,
every wail of grief

i smile, and i glow
and she glows back
moondust made of fine gray hair
a serene face laced with scars

i never learned
how to sew, or cook
but i can make potions,
and write prayers

and i am nourished with the milk
of the still night sky
and the sugar of stars
ready to be picked like ripe cherries

staggering home after dark
pine needles in my hair
i've become a catholic mother's
worst nightmare

bruises and cuts
my dress in a tangle
crawling through
a raspberry bramble

ruined makeup
smudged with spit
he called me angel
but that isn't it

lost my cross necklace
somewhere in the dark
the one from my grandma
that shimmers and sparks

i'll do anything
because i'm in love
and that matters more
than the heavens above

There’s a black hole in my heart and a supernova in my mind.
But I don’t mind
because it lets me disappear.
And when they come probing into my brain I can
Annihilate. Them.
I crush stars between my teeth and trample them below my feet
until I am coated in a fine layer of stardust.
Maybe it will make me harder to see among the infinite darkness
that I know and love, that they hate and fear
because I am made of fire, and they are not.

The supernova in my mind caused the black hole in my heart.
Why can’t I feel?
Why can’t it be real?
And when they come bearing gifts I can
Annihilate. Them.
Numbed by my endless ice and darkness
until they break into a thousand particles.
But before that, they usually run away
because that is exactly what I want, even though sometimes it isn’t
because I don’t think I’m real, except in my own head.

The black hole in my heart destroyed the supernova in my mind
Is it even real?
Am I even real?
And when I come asking for help they have
Forgotten. Me.
Maybe because they’re all dead.
I wish the ink on my page could become your blood.
I wish the voice in my head would become yours.
I wish and I want and I dream of
the existence of you, or the nonexistence of me

But there is nothing more that I can do except let the black hole I created
consume
me
entirely.

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 sit in the coffee shop
writing poetry on a brown napkin
with a purple gel pen
remembering how my life was saved
by a cup of tea
beckoning me
out of my messy bed
out of my summer-sad head
and into the real world
with all its simple beauty
earthy warm green tea
but also
the hydrangeas in bloom
on the way home
and the little ladybug
hitching a ride on my shoe

sunscreen shimmers on your skin like siren scales
your hand, dirt under bitten nails, idly picks at the grass
and you fidget with the braided bracelet around your wrist

i try not to stare while you talk
so i don’t fall in love with
your velvet dark eyes,
the upturned corners of your soft lips
and the way your nose flares while you smile

you laugh like a prayer

dark sky
green tea
go to bed
and think of me

soft hair
like plushie fur
skinned knees
full of dirt

hair pins
and winter chill
watching the moon
climb over the hill

i feel safe
when i'm with you
please don't leave
like the others do

bad things happen
there's no reason
they just do

bad things happen
sometimes there's
nothing in them to learn

bad things happen
stop telling me i'm strong
for surviving how they hurt me

because bad things happen
i used to believe in god
i hate him with my whole heart now

The arms of a little girl are welcoming to the ones she loves. Gently, she reaches up, and innocently wraps them around the object of her affection, perhaps a grandmother, or an uncle only seen once a year.

Returning the affection, the family member will gently pat her head, or offer a kind word.

“Why do you hug like that? You’re doing it wrong and it’s weird. Here, let me show you how to do it.”

Someone else swoops out of the shadows to hug her. It is a sterile and cold touch. One that makes her shy away, not understanding what is happening.

She looks at me and I see her discomfort, but am unable to do anything for her. The shadow leaves long after I do, and she slinks away to find someone better.

But the scent of fear still lingers in the air, soft enough for her acute senses to pick up on it. She looks for the source, but only sees me. I avert my gaze from hers, but still understand what she says.

Why are you a stranger to me if I’ve known you all my life?

You see, if my hands have been anywhere near your neck, I’ve probably thought about how easy it would be to **** you. That’s why I’ve been trained to never offer hugs.

It has nothing to do with you, I just have really bad intrusive thoughts sometimes.

She looks at me, and lifts her upper lip, showing her teeth, glistening white with fresh strings of saliva.

And now is the time I choose to make eye contact. Her eyes are a curious colour, one only heard of in the most bone chilling of myths. I half expect them to freeze me solid, but instead their empty stare speaks to me, saying:

I am not a part of this reality.

I am not a part of this reality.

I am not a part of this reality.

Someone come take me away.

thunderstorms in june
he threads daisies
through her wet hair
he wraps bindweed
around her bruised neck

two young lovers,
hiding from the world
in a glistening meadow,
muddy bodies tangled
on a muddy blanket

her, a siren of the suburbs
with berry stained lips
lays with her apollo
with eyes of august honey
and a rifle instead of a bow

pulling bugs out of each others hair
wondering if life will always be like this
or if it will change
and how these memories
will feel in the distant future

as the chorus of crickets begins again
after the storm has cleared
the sun descends like a halo
we can't be late
it's time to go