How long does it last?
the roses wilt and leave, lifeless.
I dry them, beg them, bottle them.
Forever in a heart shaped jar
Forever sits on my alter and gathers dust
Taunts me

I used to be alive.

through the blinds,
leaning
against the barbed wire fence,
swaying in the wind
the wild flowers,
watching their dances
in the early fall.

Good morning, stars

It rains
The wind is blowing

The branches shaken
Autumn on the asphalt
You are rolling

The wires become swings
Anyone
You sent in the parking lot
Look at the gifts of the night

Your painful pains
I'm counting.

sitting as the scissors trim, hair falling to the floor all dark and wet,

I watch her twirl fragments into sections, watch the sharp, quick movements,

and I gaze, haphazardly, at the girl in the mirror

who sits within herself, makes faces when the brush pulls too hard, smiles slightly when our eyes meet,

and that is when I stop watching the hairdresser but her face instead,

that girl, my sister,

so beautiful and sweet.

the life breathing in will quell the dread of a burning day before you; for, in the mornings, the air is fresh and chilled,
and you may graze in the openness

until the flowers fulfill you,
awaken you.

Take your forest path, your field trail, the one you marked yourself
for these moments. And bring the dogs,
let their leashes be loose,
let your soul be freed here, in this scenery.

A drunken god has
spoke you into existence
A stolen diary that told you,
it’s a sin to return this body
even if its weak bones
couldn’t carry the weight
of your heavy heart

I know I can speak myself out of it
With a blade in my hand
standing on the edge of the stage,
I’ll wait for the Almighty to sober up
and watch me steal his role

After twenty years of rehearsal
I’ll play god,
lights will go off,
and curtains will close

Your followers will clap in awe
at my convincing performance

As I bow before them
As I fall before you

the wretched fin of despair
finally broke through the floorboards
circled around the sofa
and the table upon which
we supped
muffled laughter wafting
up from somewhere below
a thud
here and there
in between rips and tugs
and labored gasps
razor sharp leading edge
chewing slicing sawing
through the kitchen and down
the slate black steps
to the front door
and out

Find a way to go and know that you'll be fine with it
If you choose a road that you know you're not fine with
There's a better way, you'll see better days
Life will be great when you're in your castle

Gotta roam alone but I know you'll find your way
If you're feeling low know you're still glowing to me
There's a better way, you'll see better days
Life will be great when you're in your castle now

black coffee

dry wine

the sour sting
of waking up with love
troublesome and futile
mingled with sweetness
of knowing what the poets talked about