There's not enough alcohol in the world
to fill the void you've left.
Your silence holds enough torture
in itself to remain nameless and
beyond anything explored.

Only I know -
I've mapped it out in several pages.

I have mapped out the curve on
your bottom lip that I never kissed,
and below that a chin that's connected finely to the jaw bones
chiseled by God himself.
Your soft palms that sprouted out to five
different ways in which you could have touched me.
Five ways in which I could have held on to you.

I should have.
But I was so stupid then.

I am somewhere, maybe everywhere, but mostly nowhere.
Home is fictional; I am drifting in this city of strangers. Another night without rest, a candle burning, a boy crying, blood on the kitchen floor. I tried to buy cigarettes but my account decided it was empty. From the window on the fourth floor across the street, it might seem that I live a lavish life. I stay in Tribeca- I  even have an elevator. When I go out, I dress well. Beautiful people surround me and usually drinks are free. Sometimes they buy me breakfast or coffee or give me a place to stay. My weekends are often spent in East Hampton, in a three house lot that serves as a sanctuary. I go to nice places for dinner. I am not the one paying. I buy this with my silence, a silver tongue that keeps quiet when food and water are scarce. It's okay, it has to be, that's what I tell everyone who asks for help. How can I ease their wounds when mine are gaping, when I feel sick and weak and lost? I pay them with compassion-I give them kindness. I am exhausted.
I don't remember the last time I had money in my pocket or an answer I can stand behind.
This is what I wanted.
I kiss the man next door goodnight. I listen when he is sad. I carry the guilt of the woman I stay with in exchange for a corner to sleep in. My eyes are heavy with concealed bruises. My heart is heavy with the pain of others. My body is light with the heaviness of hunger.
This is what I wanted.
Will someone tell me what to do? Can I dream about a studio with a bookshelf full of my favorite authors and a man beside me each night? Am I weak if I walk away? Do I go back to school after a summer of travel and pretend that I am the same? Can I look love in the eyes and promise purity?
I am somewhere, maybe everywhere, mostly nowhere.
I am suffering quietly. I am proud.
I am absolutely terrified. I am alive.
This is what I wanted.

I do not envy the man about town,
The shackle suit and morning groom,
The campaign of papers and style,
Whose work a day is but a futile way
And each choice is ruin to the heart.

The pill shaped tables of the board rooms,
Where ink is blood and flesh is facsimile,
Caged in by the cubicle, lets in no breeze,
Only the still air of stifle, encased.
What dreams may die in this dullness  
Of days?
          There is a ringing that will not  
Cease.  There are stalls by the staples, there is  
No peace.  And time is warden either side  
Of the glass doors and with mercenary feet  
And closed eyes he makes his stand, he makes
His choice, he sets his gait, chimes in lock step,  
His voice is hoarse, and all his salary days  
Are trojan.  
  
        No, I do not relish the dog  
Eat dog, nor the barking toes that step so low,  
Even lower than the hangman's boom.  For like  
A slug crossing a busy street he does not fear  
The tread.  He does not know these sounds are clink.  
His thoughts are trapped in folders read, and with  
Mobile cells his ears are pinned and grating-micro-
Waves well cancer to his brain.

Respect
for the mother and fathers who build this playground for us to roam ,
respect for the floating flowers sweet seed sprouting into blossoms tree
respect for the love of self - selflessly
respect for the helpers helplessly
respect for the boundaries

rises climatic waves crash onto soft shore
breakfast on the patio
what could one ask for more
then a wake up call without using a phone

last night's revelries spill over into today's serenity
sacred ground
sacred sounds
early bird gets the worm they say

share the love
spread the love , doctors healers
love knows no bounds
but seeks to reach each tip of wing in illuminated golden heart seen on first meeting
glows the fireflies
who light up the night time so bright
nor the wonderlusting princesses moving in her own skin with so much filling to the brim
overspilling with kisses and loves
spilt beers and american dreams turn to dust on the desert plains
and the silken haze hangs low across the city
bike riding race styling high flying
we already die to live to give
we already sing to the silent tunes of water droplets
and bird calls
tree's sigh in daylight delight and fight no one,  not even the night for ...


the tree's photosynthesise by moonlight
leaves drink in the cool wise light and give off dreams of softly fading starlight
and laughing at Jamican tour guides....*exucse me while i light my spliff....har har har har.....and over here is the kitchen...

Try to kick me when I'm down
you can keep knocking
but you cant knock me down.
what goes around comes back around.
i hope you enjoy your time looking face down just standing there watching me drowned.
all these people looking down on me
All prove you wrong. Ill make it to the top you'll see.
I didn't do it for you,
i did it for me.
you were never there for me anyways.
I'm so tired of being the only one there for someone in this relationship dad...
daddy its me, cant you see?
you promised me you wouldn't leave but you did
its to late
go show the crowd you love them more than me... that's what they want, right?
That's what you want.....right?
all i ever wanted to make you was proud
proud of me for doing something i believe in.
dad I'm following in your foot steps but you don't see me.
your so focused on you.
This world has a mind of its own
its scary.
I'm learning to take life as it comes at me...
get pushed around, torn apart, and shattered but i keep walking.
one foot in front of the other seems like something you would do.
all I'm trying to do is be like you.
i plan to do everything i set my mind to...
all make it out.
i don't need you
your gone to me already
so i  guess i don't have to get ready.
no matter what you say,
i refuse to be stuck
I'm gonna move forward.
i may not be doing it your way
but to me this is the best way...
i may not be singing in a church,
but at least I'm following my dreams..
of course that's not what you have wanted...

These are the kind of thoughts that I feel like I need to swallow
because they're on a level of pathetic that I can't even admit to myself.
It's that level of pathetic that really makes a person naked.

The deep dark corners of a person.
It's the trigger of the first tear.
And it all boils down to you.

Your simple acknowledgment of self scares me.
Your self-awareness kills me because
it brings you closer to realizing
that you can do better than me.

*And then what do I do
with this epic love I feel for you?

What ive learned from love cannot be written down
it cannot be remembered or recited
it must be felt

to love someone is to let go
to let go of yourself
your ego, and your pride

to be in love is to bind,
to unite souls,
your heart, and your body

to be left is to disappear
to be engulfed with grief
your empty, and your free

to learn from love
is to accept
your human, and your going to survive

what ive learned from love cannot be written down
it cannot be removed or forgotton
it was felt.