hope called through a
window's pane, the scratch
marks in the single glaze
opens my letters; they
sit down to honeyed
conversation out in
the back yard. my throat
rakes small tendrils
billowing up through
the gravel, i slumber
cradled between soft
hot patches of afternoon, i
call nobody lover but misery,
still.

moribund, late light
crosses the neighbour's
rose bushes and cries
from the fenceline. all
is broken like me, but i
do it better. that, i promise.

now, finally slowing in eyelid
beat counts, my dreams tell
truths of my own small life; the
ones i won't dare live by, but
instead lay down and watch
ribs lain below
asbestos skin: i lose
hope's screaming in the garden,
knowing no fingers would want to
cross their lines,
who'd edge up to ****** up
tired little i?

Roommate Wanted;
Dorm includes:

Kitchen,
      With complete set of
      appliances and a table
      meant for two.

Living Room,
       with a coffee table , tv
       and the sofa we used to
       watch movies and cry on.

A Bathroom,
      with hot water and
      lonely showers.

A bedroom,
      with a half empty
      king sized bed

And closet space
     which used to house the shoes
     you walked away from me in.


For inquiries please call this number:

someone I once (loved) kills himself every day
with various darkness and poisons
because he hates the way he was made
-
someone he once (loved) wakes up every day
with various dreams and flowers
because she learned to love the way she was made

I wonder what your eyes saw,
When they were glassed over with tears,
Bloodshot and pain filled,
Staring at me with hope and loss.

The eyes that once were lit by starlight in my dark bedroom, illuminating a part of my soul once undiscovered.  Were now shattered and filled with sorrow.

You held me, and kissed me with your chapped and broken lips.

You embraced me, your hands dry and your fingertips blistered from the rusted strings you played all night.

I felt you in my arms.

I slid my nails along your spine, an action that always comforted you as a child.

I pet your hair and in each lock, I twirled my fingers in your deepest thoughts.

And I wanted to run away with you.

But as I kissed you for the very last time,

I felt you crack, just like the plaster on my ceiling.

I wish to escape the skin I’m in.
I want to peel off my layers, one by one and emerge as light.
I want to float through the free space as stardust.
I want my dry eyes to shed seeds of tears that drop to the earth and plant my words into the soil.

I wish I could drown in the sun.
Thousands of rays of light enveloping, curling around me. Ensuring warmth even with the incoming shards of glass glittering in the sky.
I want to be as light as the paper thin crystal of a butterfly’s wings.
I want to carve out my heart,
still pumping blood onto my fingertips.
I want to feel the vitality leaving my body,
still clutched in my palms.
I want to whittle away at my shoulder blades until they are smooth and form no hills on my back.
I wish I was magma ready to burst from a volcano.
I wish I had its burning intensity.

I am the melted snow.
I am a sore muscle.
I am the chewed bits of fingernail after seeing him for the third time and saying nothing.
I am not made of stardust.  
I’m made of cobwebs and 1 a.m. thoughts, dying in a room too small to hold my secrets.