it's work to be healthy, to be happy - good thing I am strong.

i have taught myself
to ignore the tiny bells
that constantly ring
inside of my head,
the first warnings of
my wrong-doings,
the perpetual chiming
of my intuition telling
me that i should stop
the car and turn around

this year has been
nothing but me pretending
things are fine, when
my heart, mind, and soul
are in agreement that
they are anything but fine

my new years resolution
will be to stop smashing
the ******* bells

i'd like to sit at work all day
and drown in words

big ones that snake slowly down my esophagus
and little ones that i throw back twelve
at a time from a double shot glass

i'd like to inject them
into my blood stream

the first ***** of the needle will sting
but after that it's smooth sailing
and i'll be high on odes, haikus, and prose all day

i'd like to unhinge
the top of my skull

take measuring cups and mix 1/2 cup
repetition, 3 cups flow, 3/4 cup line breaks
in with my brains until it's a thick, smooth mixture

i'd like to gorge until
my body refuses one more bite

so full of cummings, neruda, frost, denero,
mcgovern, hughes, whitman, salzberg,
keats, eliot, wordsworth that i might explode

bruises on my feet from
a night i can't remember
in that town that i can still
navigate with my brain
turned off and my body
left to it's own devices, a
dangerous moment, but
i've been here before

a zombie version of myself
wanders down main street
staggering back to a home
that's not mine to crash in
a bed that i once would hide
in, alone, and it's crushing
this spirt of mine

and when i wake up the
next day to peals of laughter
and look at myself and don't
understand, i'm a mess and
a martyr who just can't grow
up yet and i'm bitter and
wishing that time was on
my side

when i pick up the phone
it's you that i hear now and
i'd do anything to turn back
the clock, but it's me and i'm
alone and i can't reach the
hands now, and breaking
it is the only way of making
it stop

reality sinks in
like thousands of pins
piercing my skin

this is home
in the sense
that i've lived endless days here,
but i've never felt
more lost in my life

down the rabbit hole
   i go
only this time i'm
falling
         alone

things were much
simpler
when your hand
was always in mine

when i land
with a thud
at the bottom
of this long
tunnel
things are too dark
and my eyes
have trouble
adjusting

this time there's
no one to lead me

i crawl on all fours
through the dirt and grime
mud caked onto my fingers and toes
creepy crawlies
scuttle across my appendages
but i don't mind,
i welcome the company

i've turned into a wild mountain woman,
conquering peaks and balancing in poses
on a cliff's edge. my strength is my
greatest gift, my solitude, my greatest joy.
the trees and breeze my only loves
until you stumbled upon my worn dirt path.

learning to love myself through the one i choose to love

with each step along the shores of my
pristine, clear heaven I can feel your
breath in sync with mine, the trees
sway and question the heavy footfalls
alongside my short strides, and my mind no
longer lingers on each leaf, petal,
sound, no, instead it's your eyes i picture
when i inhale deeply and close mine.

learning to love myself through the one i choose to love

to share this moment, this magic
where my roots find home in a place
that i'm beginning to realize that i've
always known, the glassy water reflects
how well you fit right by my side, and
my heart whispers, "go ahead, dive."

learning to love myself through the one i choose to love

15 years old:
invite a group of friends over
to sit in my empty living room
with brand new wood floors -
we’re renovating

proof: I’m not poor

16 years old:
hang out of my sister’s
bedroom window,
swing into wet mulch,
steal away to twone’s
to get hammered and
touch my first ****

proof: I’m not afraid

18 years old:
lament over the fact
that I’m the last senior
alive without a cell phone

you got the flip, *****,
happy birthday

proof: I’m one of you

21 years old:
rip six foot bongs,
squirt jaeger bombs
into mouths from a gallon jug,
***** black sushi sacrifice

proof: I can hang

22 years old:
get caught with drugs
in 90 degree Arizona desert,
make friends with drug dog,
tell the truth while you take a ****,
sit in a cell and make plans
to call brother for bail

proof: the truth won’t always set me free

11 years old:
go into a department store
with my auntie,
heavy footsteps follow,
head to the juniors department,
heavy footsteps follow,
turn round, see an old man,
think, ‘he must be shopping for
his granddaughter’

proof: innocence is blind

have to ***, head to the bathroom,
heavy footsteps follow
with ragged breathing,
watch as Velcro sneakers stand
just beyond the door my stall,
curl into a ball and
wait, wait, wait,
as my brain takes on silent screaming

proof: I am nothing but prey

hear the next stall door
creak open,
watch feet walk in and legs
begin to bend,
explode out of stall
into store,
find auntie and begin
hyperventilation and
true demonstration of fear

proof: I am a woman now

i thought of you earlier
and the way that you rip my breath
right out of my lungs, up through my chest,
then my throat, and finally out of my mouth
and into your own

and as you breathe me in
i know that one taste is all you need
and you can read me like i'm some kind of
page ripped out of a well loved book

you've got shards of my soul
locked up within your own
and i can't help but look
into the depths of the bottomless pits
that reside heavy set in your face
with a relentless stare that i won't soon break

wordless communication

because we're all just animals
and the words that fall out of our mouths
haphazardly onto the laps of one another,
like heavy bricks falling from the top floor of a building,
are simply clattering noise to break the silence
that most of us cannot endure

the reporters kept going on and on
about how shocked they were that
the cold had come after the hottest
summer on record- didn't they
know that nothing lasts forever?

i refused to put shoes on, which
didn't matter much since i wasn't
making it out of bed most days

saving you was ruining me, and
then like magic- ****! you were
gone, but the smell of your decay
stuck to my skin like the smell
of your american spirits

i drew out the demons slowly,
agonizing over each lost smoke-
wanting to really feel the
**** i scraped off of my insides

i kept picturing you, shaking
because your body couldn't live
without 7&7's - christ, who had
you become? still, your eyes were
the same, but the look you gave
me had changed, and maybe my
eyes told a different story now too

i sang sad songs to the mountains
as the sun went to sleep, tears
came one at a time, but the silence
was deafening

time spent staring at nothing as
i traveled elsewhere in memories,
whether they were real or dreams
i still can't be sure

i looked back at myself and read,
"i remember when i was lost and
confused." how ironic and presumptuous
i had been, how little i had understood
about life, about how change happens-
through acute, exhausting, and
harrowing pain

i thought that i could give away pieces
of myself and still remain living,
but scooping your soul out
is so much easier than filling it

i can't write anymore
and i know it's because
i am afraid of my own
truths

it's hard to find the
exact point where i
began slipping, because
usually it's with a whiskey
bottle in hand, but this
time sobriety haunts me

i become uncomfortable
at this point in a poem -
unsure of my intentions,
of who i am as a writer,
of my own ******* self

and so begins the anger,
the masking, the quitting,
the loneliness, the bubbling
of things that were once
dead and buried

and then i sit, and i don't
write in my head, and i
question it all with the
same intensity that has
lingered for nearly
two months, and i want
to take paper with my
words and shove it
back down my throat,
because this
is not
poetry

ashy shins sit above worn nikes
pedaling slowly, back and forth,
back and forth, as she calls out,
"hola," again and again to the
little boy who lives next door

she's waiting, and sitting still
isn't what she's about, so she
pedals, back and forth, back
and forth, back and forth

wide grins reveal missing teeth,
worn out tanktop bares prison
tattoos scratched into sagging
skin, i bet she was beautiful once,
but all that's left is a carcass now

she stops to light a menthol,
and adjust her head scarf, then
she's at it again, back and forth,
back and forth, back and forth

hummer pulls up with the rims
spinning, blasting biggie like
they just got free, front door opens
an inch, rolex hand reaches out
to give our girl the goods

nothing to go back and forth
for now, crack in hand, lips
wet from licking, she rides away
almost as high as she'll be
once she hits that rock

momma always said,
the women in our family are strong

the kind of women that are out in the field doin the same back breaking work as the men
the kind of women carryin their own groceries and two babies from the chevy to the back door in one trip
the kind of women who take a backhand from their husband and hit him back hard enough to make his eyes water
the kind of women that bring babies into this world and watch their families fade away like candles flickerin in the wind

momma always said,
the women in our family are strong

so, i don't really have a choice,
i got to be

today i sat
in my living room
and i clicked
and typed
and clicked
and typed
and clicked
and typed
and then i found something.
something that would change me.
something that is changing the world.

it began as a group of men
marching peacefully.
carrying flags
and speaking their beliefs.
young and old came together
for one reason-
to defend their rights
as man.

they walk past palm trees
and tall city buildings,
on the streets that were once
their daily commute to work.

they come to a barricade
and are the army wastes no time.
they are fired at.
all hell breaks loose.

men fall,
men cry,
men run,
men die.

i'm still sitting in my living room.

'switch off your humanity,'
said the vampire to the newborn,
'can't **** humans dry when
your compassion is your compass'

trying to take on terror and
tremendousness all in one is a task,
satiating the desire to succumb and
strike those who desire you into submission

if life isn't a tight rope then i'm not a
bloodthirsty woman ready to pounce,
practicing patience and practicality,
wishing i could just rip out jugulars

the ease
of being bad
and doing wrong
is alluring

to cheat is simple,
to lie is easier,
and to run away,
now that, that comes
quicker than breathing

i'm practiced
in the art
of being a
girl who just
doesn't give
a flying ****

or maybe it's the
fact that i can
paint a pretty mask
and don it for all
eternity

and when they
lay me down
to rest
my youngest
grand daughter
will peer up
at me
and see a face
she never knew
cause the devil
doesn't want
nothing but the
naked truth

to be you is to leave a life
painted with regret in twitchy
strokes that reveal unsteadiness
in every movement of the brush

i work in certainty more often
than not, seeing the colors before
they splatter on canvass, a predetermined
image fixed in my mind's eye

my palette has changed, no longer
faded and full of sadness, now there
is a luster to the tones splayed before me,
a freedom to the movements i make

i am becoming the you, the me, my
art had always dreamed it would one
day be, i am unveiling my greatest work
yet, effortlessly beautiful in it's simplicity

the day that we stood
in that empty tar lot
and felt the heat rise
from the ground
into the soles of our converses
behind the apartment
under the overcast sky
was when i first knew
that i wasn't going to let go

it was after we had traipsed
through the woods
with your sisters
and i had climbed the wall of stone
and leaped fearlessly
to the water below,
you tried to kiss me
through a waterfall
and i was too afraid
to touch your lips

and as we stood there
and prolonged the inevitable
you took my face in your hands
and tried to kiss
every freckle
and it took all of me
to keep my knees from buckling

and when you bit my lip
in that way that you do
i felt like i was going to explode,
i couldn't get close enough
even if i crawled inside of you

i drove away slowly
watching you walk away
knowing,
i wasn't going to let go

blew baby,
browned out banishment
into misogynist
misunderstandings

eye to thigh,
**** it

uptight, torn out
ligaments left
behind in ******
smears on busy
sidewalks

i linger above
park benches,
eyes between
branches, ready
to pounce on
whatever prey
comes my way

hungry for flesh,
wanting for warmth,
despite my best efforts,
still human

we walk a thick line
with margins as wide as we'd like them

when you don't believe in anything
it's easy to paint a picture of wild abandon

i tell myself that i'm free
but so does the caged bird
to bare the weight
of knowing he'll never touch the sun

i hear you through the stained glass
screaming at children, scaring the **** out of them
*******, you're ******* tough, aren't you?
telling a nine year old to jump in the garbage where she belongs

with your cigarette stained screams
and hair that would gladly twist it's tendrils
around any unsuspecting victim
quick enough to squeeze the life out of them
before they had the sense to run

and this little girl has strength enough to keep her chin up,
keep moving her little legs to grab her icee
from the corner market in this early summer heat

and you're still on your ******* porch
yelling about little ******* pinching your baby

if you want to be the guard dog of this neighborhood
let's get you a chain and leash
because there's no question in my mind
that you are a *****

study finger prints,
raw meats, strange sounds,
humans on the sidewalk,
cracks in the faces that
we're given, slow moving
birds saying their goodbyes

take all of these particles
of life, of love, of whatever
it is we're put here to do

take them and put them
somewhere safe
because one day either
we'll be gone, or they will,
and the missing will go on
infinitely, it will go on

it will resonate off of
old walls that used to
house our twin sized beds
on dusty wood floors,
then deep into canyons
out west that look like sand
castles shoveled by tiny hands
at race point beach on the
fourth of july,
then through metros
that rush all day but never
really end up anywhere

they will brush by those
who feel the sudden change
in the air around them,
like a hand touching their shoulder,
or the wind spewing
from their lungs a little
too quickly

they will sit and wonder,
and they will begin to study
the sand in their shoes,
moonlight through branches,
children's books, the way
bricks are laid, how a face
can crumple or illuminate
at a moments notice

they will take these pieces
and tuck them away, just
as the impending infinite
missing closes in

broken hearts
feel good frozen
in black ice because
they've lost their
feeling and i've
lost my sight

you have eyes
that don't see like mine
and i can't reach the peep
hole in the back of your skull,
so i guess i'm never going
to understand

walk slowly
now because things
are suddenly
slippery and
your balance
has never been
that great

drove down to the tetons
just to see what orange leaves
looked like,
it's hard to remember when
you're surrounded by
lodge pole pines
all the time

we drove slow on the
way back, feeling
the summer slip
between fingertips
as we cruised
along the curving
hips of lake yellowstone

when i discovered the
shot i felt as if i had
borrowed your vision
for just a moment

steady now, don't miss,
the colors layered in
a way i know i won't
ever see again

a single elk stood near
a spruce, separating
serenity from sea swell

the perfection of
a mirrored image,
nature overwhelming me,
not once, but twice

absarokas are beginning
to stand tall stage right
and i'm watching a horizon
that never seems to fade

click, i snap a shot, but
really i've found myself
in a world that can't ever
truly be captured

where do thoughts go when they are forgotten?

i find mine weeks later,
scribbled on old show fliers
and scattered around the living room
after nights spent smoking 'til i'm spent,
written on walls, bed posts, bookshelves
in sharpie and black pen while i lay
in bed and lament over loss and being lost,
hidden on crumpled receipts from
store visits where i've spent what i don't have,
that are then shoved into the dark depths
of purses i've thrown into closet corners
only to be found when digging for
something to wear just before laundry day

often times i go to let the words
plummet to the page and i feel stuck,
then i picture the pieces of my past
scattered all around my apartment,
if only i'd keep these lost chunks of my
mind in neat little piles so that when
the blocks inevitably come i've got
miles of material to work with

unfortunately i've got a knack for
foresight in less ways than i'm willing to
admit, so here i sit, wishing for
my thoughts that have wandered away

bump in the night

snow-filled nostrils
and wild hips
make friends real
******* quick

beers in my hands
and a genius on stage
i'm moving in patterns
and i'm sure he can
read them

bathroom visits with
moons in our eyes
i want to touch you
but i don't dare try

after hours bring
***** calling me beautiful
hearing what you
already know makes
***** come quicker

bump in the night

and we're on the
road once more
tiny little room
and all the heads
are talking

you swing and i sway
hands on my hips
i'm desperate, but
controlled, wish i
could touch your ****

kitchen tables thick
with lines, four thirty
comes quick, we say
our too long goodbyes

i ride away and i
won't soon forget
what snow is like
in december

why do i bother?
knowing that lifting you up
only makes me sink further
into the dirt

soon enough i'll be six feet under
scratching at the soles of your feet
but you'll smile and laugh and say,
"oh how that tickles!"

that's just like you
to forget who you climbed over
to get to the top
the only thing that matters
is where you are now
and i'm ashamed
that i've let this go on

will i always wear my wishbone
where my backbone belongs?

now i sit here among the bugs and rocks
watching myself decay
from my feet up
and as my bones begin to protrude through my skin
jutting out at odd angles
and ever so slowly breaking down
to become one with the earth
i realize, too late
that you weren't worth it

i'd like to rip out a chunk of each of you
tantalizingly slow, i'll dig my dirt crusted finger tips into your flesh
never breaking eye contact as one after the other
you squirm and beg for mercy

i'll take needles, thick and crusted with rust,
and piece together a patchwork of my broken hearts
watch as all of the things i miss most become one

i'll stare at my conglomerate of lovers and will
find myself swooning the way i often do over all of you,
only this time i won't fear the cavernous plunge to come

how could the most beautiful pieces of all the
men i've ever loved scorn me?
i'll just have to put up with the stench of decomposition

it's insane
that the human body
knows the difference
between a deep breath
and a bite of grilled cheese.
air down this tube,
grub down the other.

i sometimes sit
and think
god can't possibly be real.
how in the world
could he come up
with this ****?

with all of the complexities that
make up humans and the rest
of the animal kingdom,
i have to believe that our molecules
just smashed into each other
going 10,000 miles per hour,
and so we began.

tiny organisms at first
that grew to be beasts,
born to be brutes.
with feet that carried
them wide and far,
wreaking havoc
on this green of earth.

i feel the water amass beneath my dark circles,
pushing against my eyeballs with the gentle whisper that says,
"this release is just what you need,"
but still, i can't allow it because i'm the steady hand,
the rock through this **** storm that will see everyone
through to the other side of the choppy waters before us

i wonder what life on the other side of the chasm
will really look like, if this utopia is nothing but a farce
that they've written in children's books and bibles alike
to keep us hunting and holding onto the only shreds of
humanity left in a world intent on murdering love

i feel the pieces slip between my finger tips, and they
linger in the air longer than gravity should allow, but still,
i cannot catch them no matter how quick and agile i become,
so i try being flexible instead and the back bends serve me
well until they don't, but that doesn't stop me from continuing the practice

i stay awake and bathe myself in moonlight even when
the clouds hide all of the pieces of me that i thought were already
illuminated, i lose myself in moments of stillness in a bed that
doesn't really belong to me, but really, what do any of us truly
own on this rock hurtling through time and space? i wonder about
that for a long while and hum along to tunes that belong in music boxes,
not the heart of a girl who will never commit long enough to release them

i sit in the sadness so long that the muck dries like a crackling mask
over my entire being, the peeling back reveals loss on a scale i still
don't really comprehend, but still, my feet move forward into one day
followed by the next and the next and the next, and in the moments that
i find stillness i think nothing, just relish in the embrace of an effortless breath

you and i were
always a team
against the monsters
that went bump
in the night
but when morning
burst through
our blinds and
one monster
still lingered
i had to learn
to hide what
should've never
been in sight

you did your best
protecting me,
but then you'd
be taking twice
as much at once

i hated that so
i became the
distraction,
i was good
at siren screams
and flailing falls

you got belts
and i got welts,
and soon things
grew bigger and
badder, fist fights
in front doors, and
flashing lights
on front yards,
my screams had
little to hold
to real sirens

we spoke of
****** of running
of telling of finding
a way to escape
in the night, but
i was too young
and the dust began
to build before you
even left me behind

when i was a little girl
i drove a pink convertible
i didn't mind that it was
slow going
all i needed was the breeze in my hair

i would dream that i was driving
across the country
to california

i always knew that the east
would never complete me,
even at the tender age of four

now i've grown up,
physically speaking,
and i've had enough of this coast

one little taste was all i needed

sick of the east,
i'm gonna
run away, run away, run away
to the place that might sink,
but the sun shines all day

looped layers linger on
terraces as terror takes
form in bandaged brains
chock full of deranged
discernment

****,
climb into the cabinet

find fear washed away
in dead eyes that
shrivel and shrink with
each passing moment

squirm, squirm, squirm

stomach walls suction cup
one another as sludgy
slime slurps between
cracked crevices

bile belches amidst
odd laughter, an onslaught
of imagery, insecurity,
and imagination

not a sound in the world,
but every sound in the world

slip slowly through
diversions from truth
mad man or master?
monster or magician?

a circus of dark circles
comes rolling into town-
come one, come all!

certain death lurks
around every corner,
shrouded in shadows  
between daylight
and dreaming,
daring you to look
away as it steals
whatever it is that's left

i don't want to immortalize you,
i want to keep you in a tiny box
with a handsome photo of you
next to each and every thing
you write when you feel whatever
it is that you feel when you write

i don't want to work hard at this,
because i know what that yields
and i'm pretty sure neither of us
has the capacity to grow much
of anything other than ourselves
into what we're destined to become

i don't know who she is,
this woman who talks to you
without fear of rejection or
retribution despite the fact
that i'm saying things i never
thought would roll off of
my disciplined tongue

i don't want much from you,
other than words and long looks
and touches and carnal attraction
and time when you can spare it
despite the truth of how little
excess either of us seem to possess

in a world
where we
all crave to be
understood,
but different
and complex,
all at once
i was left
feeling as if
i were in
a cat's cradle -
undeniably
wrapped and tangled
around myself

for many moons
i tried to
believe
that it was me
and my lack
of an explanation
that could not
be translated
to the language
you had begun
to speak
that was quite
different
from my
native tongue,
but i began
to realize
that speech
had nothing to
do with it,
and it was
your refusal
to open your eyes
fully and drink in
all that i had
laid out
before you

i contemplated
myself often
and the idea
of change
flitted around
inside of my skull
like birds trapped
in a cage -
i knew i had to
set them free

it's been said to me
and i've said it
to myself,
i will find the one
who wears no
blinders,
who speaks my
language,
who wants me
fully

i will find that one
in due time,
when the timing
seems wrong
and i haven't
the time,
he will show up
and drink me
in and fill
himself completely,
and snip away
the strings
that have rendered
me useless
when it comes to love

is it wrong
that those
in love
make me
want to *****
lying on my back?
so that the
900 calorie
barbecue cheeseburger
that i ate for dinner
kills me in a manner
other than
clogging my
already corroded arteries

once you're alone
it seems as if
everyone is together
and it makes you
wonder, who
was writing
sick, twisted
poetry
about you and
your lover,
holding hands
and staring into
each others eyes,
as if irises
hold all of the
answers and
promises
to a beautiful
life

when I smoke cigarettes
I curse them, not myself

I'm sober,
what excuse do I have?

other than the growing sense
that my sky is perpetually falling

my therapist says
I should try breathing

skin slips off of bone,
the slow dripping of
the very essence of life
leaving me, an endless
moment after moments
that sped by quicker
than my vision could capture

i want to know why
everything is painful now,
why i've forgotten
how to care for my bones
that ache like they have
had enough moving
for sixty lifetimes

it may be spring, and i
may be a chicken, but
connecting the two seems
impossible  

staring in the mirror i
dive into dark circular
pools and vow to leave
my vices on the crayon-
colored table in our
living room

i am so used to being
saved, but now i wear
the thorny crown befitting
the savior, and the
blood that trickles down
my lips tastes like warm,
sad failure

i found you one day
when i was only 15.
funny thing is,
you were only 15 too.

you were cut kinda funny,
so off they shipped you.
your color wasn't quite right either.

i tried you on for size
and you were perfect.

robin's egg blue.

since then we've done a lot,
and seen a lot too.

we've been coast to coast
and overseas.

spent summers at the ballpark.
handing out dip'n dots
and watching pop flies.

moshed, danced, drank, smoked, ran, biked, swam
together in fredonia.

climbed over mountains, deserts and everything in between.

one night we were in a three legged race
and that's when you got your first hole.
the lace pulled right through you.

since then you've gotten a few more
and your souls have worn thin.

i think of them as battle scars,
memories.

you tell my story better than i ever could.

these moments always stick out,
like the branches that would get caught
in the creek where i'm sure i smoked a joint with you,
but the truth is you remember more of me

i'm sure that this sensation is falling, but i can't recall
what it feels like to have it happen because
your soul reflects someone else's -
maybe i've never known that kind of love

you whispered to me about a party at joe's,
how it was your first time coming round and
i introduced myself, about a kiss i stole in a
dive bar, about sleeping with me in my tiny bed

i wish i could remember, but whiskey stole
those memories away when i was just a little
girl with no real understanding of what it meant
to hold a man and know i might hold him forever

when i lay my insecurities in the mossy beds of
the forests that make up our existence here, i find
you looking at me in a way that leaves me without
fear, and instead a peace that's bigger than all of this

the universe whispers to me while i sleep - sweet
sounds of a greater good, a love that lives within and
without us, an interconnected force that feeds the soul -
i find you amidst it all, your only wish, to hold me

sunrise is lazy this morning
as our awakening coincides with shivers
running up and down cool spines
on crusty concrete floors

sheets and sweating water cups,
that's what we ride for
past waterfronts and freeways,
fast as we can with sleep in our eyes

paisley prints surround us
as i lay and recount our night

flashes of flash lights reveal
strange structures inside of silos,
climb on, climb on,
exploring exploitation of the norm,
art in ways art hasn't yet dreamed

wild animal sounds bounce and billow
around in old grain homes,
while hands keep beats and hearts
are pedaled in shadow onto walls

fire breathing pipes belch into the
calm, black night and attempts to
climb towers are squandered by
men holding flashlights and power

so we fade into the nothingness and find
other metal mountains to explore,
garage doors open up to windmills
and i find myself with knees as
****** and black as the night before us

still, the animals cry out, but this time
it's low and between rushed breaths
that betray a sense of ecstasy only felt
when it sneaks up from behind

everything is temporary
everything is temporary
everything is temporary
until it's permanent

the muscles in my right arm
break and rebuild
as i sloppily throw the mop
into the grey water
accented with glitter and swirling with paint
tiny finger and shoe prints
litter the linoleum
and i can't help but smile

fourteen hours later
i sleepily climb into my car
and i watch the sky as i drive, not the road
and the sun begins to lift it's eyelids
and it looks as if the sky is bleeding out
slowly, but surely

and as i drive on autopilot
i think to myself,

i can do this
i can do this
i can do this
until i can't

necessary means to an end

sometimes i want my skin to crawl -
i want to sit my bones in muck and sink
until my nostrils are just above the level
where i can no longer breathe

i want to purge myself of every great loss,
that's ever been or will come to be

i want to exist in every moment that i live,
to feel every emotion with an earnest heart,
to see every sight with wide eyes and an
open mind ready to learn, unlearn, relearn

i want to evolve, though the process
will be painful and neverending - i want to grow

tonight was the last time
i'd walk into my yard
without shoes on
and not lose my toes
to the frost that breathes on the back
of our necks
even though the shine from the sun
still freckles our faces

i stood there and held steady
as bailey ran figure eights around me
weaving in and out of the rhododendrons
knowing just how long his leash would reach
before his collar snagged on his windpipe

i looked over the fence,
saw that your light was on,
but i knew you were gone
being pumped full of formaldehyde
and by now they had cut you open
and taken out my favorite part of you

i thought of the time when i was just four
and you rolled over on that ride on mower
wearing that old hat you'd gotten
back when they called you the anaconda
your skin was like chocolate and i thought to myself,
now that man looks delicious

my daddy handed me to you over the fence
and i sat on your lap, we mowed your two acres together
you singing stevie wonder, me singing the beatles
back and forth we went until every last blade was clipped

i rolled down the sledding hill and you smoked your cigar
and laughed when i got up and couldn't figure out
if i was looking up at the sky or down at the earth

and when your big hands
held my tiny shoulders
the world stopped spinning
i looked down and there was
the tiny gold locket that i still have today

my momma called me for dinner
and you picked me up,
put me on my side of the fence
and winked at me like you always did
but that day was different, that day you said,
erin ann, you're the daughter i never had

i know that the blood
that runs from my heart to my brain
to my finger tips as they write this
is not the blood that no longer
races through your veins,
but lord knows,
that won't make
watching them throw the dirt
on top of you
any easier

i stand in front of you
smaller than how
you remembered me
yes, i've been shrinking away
and my parents
throw worried glances
at the collarbone
that now juts out on my chest
like a sneering grin,
lifting on the edges
my father asks,
"will you waste away to nothing?"
and all i can do is shrug

i stand in front of you
and i wish that you would
open up your chest -
grab the sharpest thing
you can find and cut yourself
wide open-
just so that i can crawl
back inside
where i once lived
within your core

i want to feel the
damp warmth
that puts a strange
feeling in my nose,
for i can't decide
if i'd like to throw up
or **** the air in
deep into my lungs
again and again,
surround me, once again

i don't care that it
may **** you to open
yourself up to me
or that once i'm inside
i may find myself clawing
at the walls until
i've rubbed off
the skin on the end of
my fingertips so
that no one will
ever know what
has become of me

my selfishness
blinds all sense of reason
and innate want takes
over now, for
the one thing
i would like the most
is to be as close
to you as i can get,
without ever having
to look into your eyes

why do I still care
that you dated a girl
with my weird,
half-shaved head, haircut?
I still wonder if you
asked her to cut her hair
that way
because you missed
the feeling of fingertips
on fresh buzz

I look back at myself
and I feel shame-
not for the things I’ve done,
or haven’t-
but for not loving myself
deeply and always,
for selling out to insecurities
and letting others tell me
what defined my essence of self,
for not seeing my soul
clearly, and for not
being my own
biggest risk and reward

the only thing you ever
gave me were ****** up
naval cavities and an
inexplicable understanding
of what it means to lay
in someone’s arms
and feel completely alone

today i hold
the hand of existence,
of self, of muddled
understanding, and
sight through scratched
and hot-breath-fogged
lenses caught between
sun and tsunami

i will be still through
torrential downpours
of doubt, desire, and
detriment, because i
must learn to be still
and to be soaked to
the bone with what
each storm i've born
washes over me

while skin may prune
and hold moisture, mind
and soul will hold nothing
but the breath which
never ceases to come
and go, whether in
this life or the next

to be alive is not to be
conscious, but to be
conscious is to be
truly alive

i wish to be alive
i will be alive

and all will
begin and end
with a breath

i am holding my towel, mid-air,
arm outstretched,
fingers clenched,
with a millisecond to decide
if i throw it in

i hate that i've gotten this far,
but lately it's all fast forward
with little retraction, relfection, or restriction

i spend hours in the mirror
trying to see myself,
but there's this big headed *****
with green eyes full of envy
and a gaping hole of a mouth
full of excuses,
that refuses to get out of the way

who's to say there's no beauty in sagging mossy roofs on moldy double wides?

old chevy's in the front yard with the wires eaten out by the rats that steal the cherries off of your forgotten childhood tree

we wonder aloud whether we should be more afraid of the squatters or the red necks toting shotguns at the end of the road, followed immediately by musings of this being the perfect place to have babies

I can see me chasing chickens and you building a shop, and our kids rolling their eyes so often they get stuck in the back of their skulls

I wish this moss filled yard would spell it out with stones from the walls that surround it, no more pondering, just a universal understanding that we’ve driven down the right road

Instead, for now, I’ll just count myself lucky for having a partner that isn’t afraid to keep driving

knowing that you
will stand in my place
next to him
wearing the dress
that should have
given me wings
hurts

my ice face
is melting, much
to my dismay
and my stone heart
is crumbling
despite being forged
from granite

i've sworn myself
to a life of secrecy
stuffing my self
in a jar much too small
to contain me
i put a boulder on top
but the strength of that rock
is nothing compared
to the desire i've got
to let it all pour out of me