my throat was kinda dry.

my eyes blinked back grief

and "so soon"

seemed to be the only thing I could stammer out of the ocassion.

you were sad.

I knew it,

I could tell.

the hollow, casual sound of your voice

"no big deal

it doesn't change anything"

I guess I didn't brace myself well enough

Thats why everything crashed down on my head

we were crashing together.

so I was slow to pick up the pieces of your wreckage

and I had no clue what to do with mine.

I could'nt lose myself though

through the one-by-one pain

of having to say "keep in touch" to all your close friends

in such a short time span

I think you deserved to find me.

3 mintues on the phone

20 minutes until you leave

the broken face of your watch staring back at me

why would'nt it slow down for us?

rewind and take us back to our friends house

green grass, laughing, and kissing

things don't ever work that way though

You can only deal with it

and walk the rest of the miles when you crash

about 41 miles and 66 km

its not that bad love

just promise you'll wait for me

and won't mind my blisters when I get there.



.

because.


eventhough the rain is cold and bitter

it still paints the roads with its shiny ectasy to be felt

it drops in when you least expect it

it reflects things brilliantly

and is something rather to be learned from

than ran from

I wanna live like rain

and touch things and people

I do not know

I want to be benefical to someones survival

I want I want I want

and I fall and fall and fall and fall

sometimes silently

sometimes loudly


either way I crash

and you feel it more than I do.

and we laugh all the way to the ground

so its not so bad.

me as the rain

you as my unfortunate stranger.

this rain is much like our love


thats why.

I am eating the cheesecake

its late

its creamy

your gone

and my anger is pent up in agonizing frustration

We had a fight

the causes unknown

the intentions secret

So I take it out on the cheesecake

the creamy sensation has been on my side

for years

more than I can say for you

were back in this endless spiral

the one that leads me to crying on the sofa

that smells of your cigarettes

eating the cheesecake,  watching emcommericals

I have wasted my life on you

and I waste this night day

trying to piece myself together

with goey strawberries and sweet pie crust

I have joined women all over the world

I've had quite enough

I'm full

Thank-you

the day spilled over

and I am sick

the light is ***** and yellow and sticky looking

I’m waiting for your call

but I dont want to sleep

I dont wanna look in the mirror

I dont want to do anything

death seems simple

close your eyes

write a letter

maybe a kiss on the cheek

before I go

I’m just worn out

its a bit simple

but a litte too simple

for me to let go

I see you come through the snow

work boots pinching your feet

I remember childhood novels

about married women and things

and its all good

sometimes it takes your worn out face

to remember why I keep kicking.

“I feel good”

I say it in a bit of a drunken slur

the cars are flashing by in a whirl of snow and sleet

you’re  the only thing in the world I want right now

I feel a wide palm caress my hip, and eyes gaze down still

you’re the only thing I want now

the only thing I need to feel

hot breath on an ear, a bumpy car ride

to wherever youth goes when it its gone bad

you are my saving grace and my one way ticket to everland

you only you

with the hair on your chin

and slick hands.

my feet are rough and cold



they pace around the small space of my apartment



they pace back and forth from school to home



click, click, click,



same rhythm, same places



same angry stomp





like impending doom walking down the street



a one girl funeral procession.



they ache



and I try to walk barefoot to soothe them a little



but the cold air stings them



they wont take me farther



they ache



I figured they want to be in covers



stroking anothers feet



toes wiggle



and their somewhat youthful again



painted toe nails



and maybe heels



like young girls feet are suppossed to be



they might glide softly on carpet



or run through soft grass



chase after him.



run after him.



kinda float after him.



thats what they would like



i'm sure of it



why wont she stop ,



walking the same ******* path to nowhere?



they may sigh.



probably cause



they ache.



she aches.

He sung to me

He didn't sing well

It was more like harmonic yelling

Off key and scratchy

With that little childish glint in his eyes

I knew I loved him then

No ones ever sung to me before

I smiled playfully

He just blushed sort of

and kissed me deeply

I haven't heard him sing

In such  a long time.....

I hadn't seen him smile

In such a long time

Its pretty early

or maybe its just a cloudy day

the light from the big bay windows

is bright and soft and sad in its purity

my heeled black boots click on the standard multi-grained colored tile

I see you in the distance in a familiar hallway

In the mandatory uniform

hands balled up in tan pants, a book bag slung over one shoulder

I stand on the opposite end looking somewhat normal

a gray and black abstract top that screams art teacher/librarian

dark purple lipstick, blue jeans, and a intricate up-do

I believe I am particularly self-conscious about this

but your smiling at me like I'm beautiful anyways

the clicking of the heels get quicker as I magnetize towards you

I fit into you like a puzzle piece

body to body, heart to heart

your arms are wrapped knowingly across my lower back

my arms are clutching your neck holding on for dear life or something else that means so much more

You still smell the same

Your breath is soft against my ear right above the sliver hoop

When we try to remove ourselves from the sticky membranes of the closeness

my nose trails across your cheek

your chin

I want that kiss I will never again receive

I look up and you're wearing that smirk

that rare smirk, that heart shattering smirk, my smirk

This. This embrace echoes things of the past

of chance, and love, and lust, and confusion, frustration, failure, and forgiveness

even though we wear that polite"we're just friends" expression on our faces.

This memory, I can place in the past , present, or future

But sometimes. Sometimes it happens differently

Sometimes I am comfy in an old slipknot shirt outside your house in the pouring rain

Sometimes we are at Parkdale directly after I've crashed and burned, trying to smile bravely like it doesn't hurt

Sometimes I am lost and broken amid the cherry blossoms sighing for you

Sometimes its on Halloween before I take my four month leave

But alot of times

more often than most

its in the way you look at me and say

How are you?

and I know you truly mean it

That's when I realize i don't need to say a word..You know

I loved you

I lost you

And vivid memory maybe the only thing I gain from this

in its embracive care

and that's okay with me

finally.

did you see the storm last night

he was beautiful and destructive

and his fury calmed my face

and illuminated me

with the theatrical light and wonder

and fear

that was there too

did you see him

the way he danced

and teased and destroyed

how he bent down the trees

and ravaged my hair

and caused the tears

and joys

did you see how far away he was

how close he got

how pathetic it was when he left

they cleaned up the mess

but dont worry

he'll come back again

did you see the strom last night

well i didnt

i miss him

with my wretched goodnights sleep.

I read all her letters



I saw myself



I read all her letters



I'm so tired



she's so tired



I saw his name



sigh



I read all her letters



I did'nt think she wanted me to



I'm glad I did



I read all her letters



I saw his name



I smiled



I read all her letters



thats all I can say



the pictures are nice



but the  letters



thats where its at



I read all her letters



thats it



i didn't  talk to her



just read



we are so different



thank god I grew up



she doesn't exist anymore.

she looked about herself
with the bunches and globs of brain matter
he picked it up and made a funny hat
and she could not help but to fall out laughing
he brushed away the trickle of blood
underneath her left eye
sighed and said
“darling , maybe you should call it a day”
she noded dreamily
in sweet short agreement
as if she didnt pull the trigger
as if there were no gun at all
just the way he makes her laugh
the way he makes her feel beautiful
just him
she’d say
just us.

in that hideous yellow lace dress

that my own mother insisted I buy

I sit uncomfortably on the couch

that your father  used to beat you on

when your mother comes in

she is all grace and big smiles

and I hate the think

I have to undo this woman's wrongs

but when I see your little brother

I think  of a younger you

I think of our future kids

I think of protecting him

and we all sit down

to say grace and eat

your father regards you

with colder eyes

and I regard you

with shaky smiles

meeting your family

the portrait perfect one

with a frame you could never fit

and broken glass I had to clean up

I am taken apart

by the random urge to whisper in your ear

"one day you won't have to pretend

we will have more than a portrait

more than still frames

we will have a whole moving picture

with the brightest moving colors and the sweetest laughter

and our little boy will look just like you"

but I just squeeze your hand

and kiss your cheek

and you'll know what I really mean

theres no pretendng here.

theres only love here.

sun rising fast

orange light gives  public transportation a peculiar  look

pink sky is my favorite

my short skirt

and black lipstick

his long unkept hair

and Iron Maiden tee

its nice to see another misfit on the bus

mr. metal flashes me a smile

I pretend to be occupied  with my cell phone

I got a boyfriend

besides

i'm not used to flattery

mr. metal is silly

he's drumming the seats with his fingers

I pinch a  black smile

don't laugh, be sensible

putting on my librarian face

glasses on the edge of my nose

sweep back stray hairs against my sensible bun

mr. metal is staring holes into me

he is amused

now I'm sulky

go back into Gatsby and Daisy

this is a bit coincidental

we are way too funny

breaks

bells

next stop

mr.metal clashes into my world

books fly

headphones  are yanked

automatic door

next thing I know

i'm flailing off a bus

wonderful.

mr. metal is sorry

I dont know I'm laughing

til my sides start to hurt

grouchy morning bystanders are looking with interest

and the bus driver is surpressing a deep belly laugh

I remind him of his clumsy wife, sister, girlfriend, or daughter.

mr. metal is headbanging to my black sabbath

and picking up my books

suddenly I know

he has a very tired understanding mother

he helps me up

we're both wearing black nail polish

dont ask me why this is so hilarious


i'm stood up, brushed off, and looked at

he looks at me like an ex

he smells good

I blush far too easily

thanks are muttered

and we turn around to walk off

like a graceful plot

of some movie I've never seen

I get a text from baby

he takes such good care of me.

mr. metal will meet a cute girl he can pit with

at some heavy concert

and maybe when she's cold

he'll give her that leather jacket

and he'll ride the bus with her

all night long

thats what i'd like to think

either way

life is good.

it was awkward
but there was beauty in it
you never see beauty in youth when you're young
you don't know the dust you'll taste
that those tears will grow some unfortunate flower
that one thing that happened
will quake and rock in your heart til you die
that no one will kiss you like he did
that no one will care like she did
that you will die one day
and that  you are  unstoppable in the meantime
and you dont know it'll be okay yet
they'll be   more  gallons of blood poured
and you dont know that a little child is watching you
you'll be their  world
until they can make their own pitfalls
and you will grow and
live and laugh and die
and it will be graceful
and  you will never have to see this ugly
beautiful world
ever again
I didnt know
I still dont know
my heart it overflows
with hate and gratitude and happiness
you have no idea
the rage in my fingers
in my heart and mind
I speak for them
for the fallen
for the ****
for the shallow
and the ugly
you will end
but you were beautiflul
while you lasted.

violins play in my head

and my vision seems to be eclipsed in black and white

I don't tell you this

you would call me melodramatic

still my eyes they work at their own free will

and I  am to admire the curves and smile of an unearthly being

you won't let my heart be still

it beats repulsively in your hand

bent out of shape and discolored like rust

but its still yours

the curtains close

the credits

and I guess you're the star of the show

thats how my life ends, love

I hope you got your standing ovation.

We had this bulletin board with candid photographs that our teachers used to take of us

I guess to commemorate the school year when it got to its end.

There are only two pictures of you

You do not ****** yourself in limelight.

They are strictly taken without your knowledge

The first is one with you working in a group project

Carefully fixing a model of some sort

Quietly working with others

Agreeable, patient, very careful

I was going to take this one, but I came across another.

This one is charmingly black and white

With you alone-sketching something –again probably for a classroom assignment

The only thing I wish of this picture is that you were sketching what you wanted

That it was you, how I remembered it

Putting a heart, a light, a dedication, a sweat, and a story

Something that danced before my eyes

Something that would materialize and be, just be in its own creation and life

I would remember in this your pencil strokes and the way you would look up and kind of smirk at me

And I would wonder if I was hidden away from you while you drew, or if my presence irritated you in some way. I would self consciously observe- not sure to speak, not sure to keep silent. I favored silence.

This picture, your face in it: concentration. A loving concentration, zoned out that you possibly couldn’t see the lucky individual with the camera. I make out the shape of your eyes and a side profile of your face and I wonder, I wonder what is this peace, patience, loneliness, vast adoration that I feel that I deny myself over and over again.

I know this picture is old and it makes me smile still- its what I missed

It reminds me of a song you let me hear

About not being home, my weird sensation of being truly ****** up

And how sweet you were about the whole thing

So on one of the last days of school, when it is excruciatingly possible to never see you, never truly see you again.

I went into the box of pictures and stole away this picture of you when no one was looking

I didn’t want it cheapened by questions

I didn’t have answers, but I had reasons

I imagined it sitting on my desk

A guy, any guy comes over

“Who’s that?”

I would smile and blush and not have an answer

I would only know and not have an answer

There was something careful about you, I guess that reigned me in.

I can’t tell you how badly I needed a friend who understood on that level, how badly I needed you in some strange quiet way

I didn’t want to struggle with a knowledge that could hurt you

“You know the bottom line was
I couldn't change your mind
Honey, could I?”  

Confuse you, anger you

I can’t, I can’t

And I can lie and say I don’t know why but I can’t

So selfishly I tried to keep it in simplicity and it only grew more complex

And so now you have given back to you meaning in a picture

The closest thing to a sketch I could, for you to see what’s inside of me

And with a lasting strangeness, like a scar

I miss you.

it was quiet when you got up

to use the bathroom

it was quiet when you kissed me on the head

grabbed your keys

and left

it was quiet when the imprint of your body

warmed the sheets and emitted all the loving grace that is you

that seeped long into my dreams

and long into my breakfast daze

holding a cold cup of coffee

aware that you’ve been working for hours now

it  was quiet when you slipped past our home

its been quiet all day.

…..its been quiet all day.

In the middle of nowhere town

I want to drink the graying sky

because the streetlights

are no match for the glint in your eyes

and they yellow and they crack

they seem to cry upon the street

to the slippery wet asphalt

under my feet

"Oh" is just a word

kinda quiet with discomfort

I imagine that they whisper it to each other

"Oh" is just a sound,

kinda softer with the pleasure

of another intimate night in rainy weather

should we kiss and they tell

I think my eyes would blink and fill

to a memory

that the streetlights recall all too well

should I cry and they see

the silly smirk you use on me

all the streetlights in D.C. would twitch in grief for me

"Oh" is just a word

more than full of quiet longing

I imagine that they hear it from distant lovers

"Oh" is just a sound

a poor excuse for comfort

but sometimes when you leave

thats all I can really utter.



.

you were a gutter ****

and I was wide eyed and wondering

what it would be like to sit out and rot at night

and laugh at things that weren't funny

you scared me kind of

your breath smelt like beer

I was excited still nevetheless

would you hold me like her?

could I be your bonnie for a week?

would I be the one to cry when they whisked you off to jail

like in all those movies from the 50's

could you pop my cherry

and make my daddy mad?

I want to be a possesion

thats all I ever knew

at least I'd be a fun one

with green eye shadow and short skirts

like those flowers

you see in the 7-11.

cause your loving is a tricky thing


said the girl to the clouds,

said the girl to the rain


whispered the wind to a swollen hidden sun


swollen just like the lips

that forgotten how to kiss

your loving is a gentle thing


whispered the boy to the girl

sitting aloof

,just them and their pain

a sad soft goodbye that

happens all the ****** time

it never gets easier,

but the rain trickled then.

because i'm not perfect the girl cried all too sadly

the thunder kinda shudder,

and it shook them both badly

and her breast all unbound

trying the rid the burdened song

that was stuck in her head,

that was stuck in the rain

but he'll say honey, darling, baby, dont cry

we will be fine,

dont mind the rain

and when the sun shines, baby we'll be alright then

all of this waiting

wont be in vain

so they say stormy weathers good for the flowers

good for the pain, good for the stains

so let yourself go and watch it wash away sorrows

and i'll do the same

just us and the rain.

But oh he was wet and dripping ignorance
And I was combusting with unholy fury
Smiting him to and fro
With my unsheathed pen
And he sat struck dumb
Morally zombie like moaning again
For my skin
But I just wrote wicked hymns
Life graffiti, like rings of fire
And he dared not behold these cat
Eyes
and black widow smirk
“Her defense was frightening”
A phrase he said himself
To whom self still turning like
Clockwork from the very
Spoils it never left
And I went like laughing
Knowing well I was no psychopath
But wrote honest colors of the world
In black ink and white paper
Blowing his mind
Like streetlamps in the midst of ill-mannered
Children with heavy rocks
And how I was amazed
When I saw
That bead of sweat
Run down those taunt brows
Like a floating messiah
With no duty but to be heard
And if I tried to express
This dear loved ones
I would nonetheless
Use words putting us both in
Abashment
But oh was it impossible he gave
What I sought
No longer listening to the little jesus
That caused him to convulse to and fro
Every night
And behold so he spoke:
“You are the first girl that ever
Really made me think”
Tone affectionate, not resenting
And I swear I felt it
I felt world peace
And he cursed me
With the very touch
That I longed for
And feared
I guess I knew not
Everything in the world.

she wanted to change the world

she couldn't with wet blankets and fading stars

she couldn't with morbid curiosity

and a pill addiction staring at her in the face

she couldn't

the world shattered her flat

and left her a tiny revolving sun

a shaft of light

he came and went

against his own will

a hiatus

not unlike the morality of men

a hiatus

not unlike any of us at all

“keep him close”

“dont let go”

the last real thing.

my last real thing.

lingering

like light off the street signs

the cigarettes they burn

the eyes they still smolder

I wake up to find

these images still smeared

still proud in their light

still proud in your light

and my life

so drunk off the promises

of wisking me away

sorry not today

but maybe so soon

just don't walk away

just don't get on that train

just take me home

so I can foolishly, just laugh

laugh all the night away...way deep into the day

let me see with quiet fingers

let me brush you, let me brush, you let me brush with quiet fingers.

over again like the softest moan I know.

so blushing in suggestion

so innocent in protection

just brush as I laugh

just stroking for the giggles.