Do you ever feel frustrated?

I'm overcome with a million words
                                                                ­that I know I'll never say.

Time stops around me,
But my brain is  a l i v e.

Thoughts gather,                
                               and 
                                              jmup 
                                                  ­               aornud
Until I can't make sense of what I'm feeling.
E v e r y t h i n g  becomes me.
I'm a deep, wide river
                                dried up in the sun.
Somehow barren,
                              yet
                              ­        drowning.


I'm walking along this road,
                                                     not going anywhere.

I'm living each day of the year,
But it's routine, copied,
                                            routine, copied,
                                                         ­                   routine, copied

The same    t i c k,    
                                    t o c k,    
                     t i c k,  
                                    t o c k,

Until I can't make sense,
                                          Of where I'm going.

I am nowhere.

I'm spinning in every direction,

Standing on top of the world.
                                                      
                                                                ­                L O S T

But here
All the same.

Stars, dazzling like little diamonds fallen off encrusted rings of love,
punctuated the molten pitch of the sky.You asked me to count the stars to measure out your love for me.
I tried, ran out of numbers and smiled.
The next morning, the stars had sunken under the glowing covers of the sun, bedazzled, disarmed.
So had your love, my love.
Like the stars,  it surged as darkness engulfed your soul, sought refuge in my trembling arms.
Come morning, it faded; sunken, dim,
draining my heart of the elixir of love.

My vision begins to blur as my eyes drown in tears,
Things are getting fuzzy and black around the edges,
I can hear my mom in the background,
She's yelling, cussing, spitting threats at me,
I can't move or speak,
Everything starts to slow down, then violently speed up,
Suddenly I can feel my lungs burning as I gasp for air,
My whole body is shaking,
All I can do is mouth your name,
Wish for you to be there if my eyes do open,
Then everything stops,
No breathing,
No noise,
No movement,
Nothing

You keep going. You cut your losses and believe in your dreams and keep trying, even if all you take are small steps. You keep going.
Because trying is valid and trying is monumental and trying is okay because trying means effort and trying can be doing or can be nothing but trying is still another step, another day, another breath, another sentence, another goal, another intention
When the depression and hallucinations and hyper sensitivity and drone and anxiety and disassociation and vices and losses and hurts and exhaustion flood and you just, can't, anymore, you must
You keep going.

For Helene.


Ashes on the water, now.
Love's bones like dust downstream.  
At least it got to see itself in our eyes,
Feel itself between hand holding hand

And whispered caresses.
From pillow talk to fists raised at
Concerts, glasses of Portuguese wine
On her balcony to the sound of magpies

We named our neighbours.
We were beautiful.
Began beautifully.
Ended gracefully.

I open hands that held hers and see
Nothing but skin worn by labour,
And air.
Ashes on the water, now.

Embers without a chance against rivers  
Cold with melted mountain snow and
Unyielding differences.
Some loves drown with lungs too full

To cry; others float like a funeral-pyre-
Longboat into the night, ablaze.
King and queen, hand upon hand.
Crowns tied from fresh flowers,

We were beautiful.
Began beautifully.
Slid apart the way a glacier parts from
The hills; slowly, but with the force

Of its thousands of tons.
Ashes on the water,
Where the ghost of our union rests
Underneath the surface of our memories.

I will remember you.
Until the stars burn out, raining the
Dust of themselves like snow upon
These waters that always are moving.