3 am and I'm wide awake
Tossing and turning in a bed too big
To soothe my lonely soul.
And as my mind wanders to you
And your arms around me
I begin to wonder if it's really you
I miss....
Or just being held.

It happens. Will it go on? ----
My mind a rock,
No fingers to grip, no tongue,
My god the iron lung

That loves me, pumps
My two
Dust bags in and out,
Will not

Let me relapse
While the day outside glides by like ticker tape.
The night brings violets,
Tapestries of eyes,

Lights,
The soft anonymous
Talkers: 'You all right?'
The starched, inaccessible breast.

Dead egg, I lie
Whole
On a whole world I cannot touch,
At the white, tight

Drum of my sleeping couch
Photographs visit me-
My wife, dead and flat, in 1920 furs,
Mouth full of pearls,

Two girls
As flat as she, who whisper 'We're your daughters.'
The still waters
Wrap my lips,

Eyes, nose and ears,
A clear
Cellophane I cannot crack.
On my bare back

I smile, a buddha, all
Wants, desire
Falling from me like rings
Hugging their lights.

The claw
Of the magnolia,
Drunk on its own scents,
Asks nothing of life.

Arms tight,
grabbing fistfuls of t-shirt,
your mascara wet on his shoulder.
This is the hug you give
when something is falling apart.

This is the hug you give your ex boyfriend
when you promise you will still be there for him,
this is the hug you give him
when he wishes to stop existing,
this is the hug you give him
when you tell him you love him,
this is the hug you give him
when he doesn't believe you,

these embraces will break your heart,
they will make your ribs curl in on themselves,
they are apologies for the harm you have caused,
they are guilt for the scars you have left,
they are acknowledging that
terrible things happen to beautiful people,
they are the realization that
you are not a beautiful person,
you are a terrible thing.

Nothing has ever broken my heart more
than feeling yours beating
*and knowing you wanted it to stop.

I'm drowning
in a mass of asphalt
blinking lights and broken buildings
Monotone voices, mindless drivers
woken up only by perceived interference
in their trip from point A to point B
The trip they make everyday
a life that rips their cares away
one by one we all fall down
underneath the weight of expectation, obligation
pushed and squeezed into a tight little box
I won't let this be me
I won't let you take every last shred of hope within me
I may be sad, I may be angry
but I will not become the mindless robot
that has multiplied within the bounds of this city
This city cannot take me
It will not eat me alive

Love to blind can cause chaos
A hate to deep can get us lost
With all eyes focused on a cost
It becomes hard to be true to ourselves
So we put all the books up on the shelves
The place in which we create is the place we dwell
And than we wonder why we cry so hard
Sinking into the midst crawling for the stars
Than we wonder why it takes so long
To be something unique is thinking of mars
Leaving us lost in the sky
Lungs filled with smoke and I'll be flying so high
Avoiding the demons in our cries
Living to long, shields out paradise
No longer will I give up my throne
Someone who taught has got much to learn
Fitting in is something we yearn
Not enough to go around so we wait our turn

915

Faith—is the Pierless Bridge
Supporting what We see
Unto the Scene that We do not—
Too slender for the eye

It bears the Soul as bold
As it were rocked in Steel
With Arms of Steel at either side—
It joins—behind the Veil

To what, could We presume
The Bridge would cease to be
To Our far, vacillating Feet
A first Necessity.

I wish that I was braver – a little less shy. But genies are a thing of make believe, so this wish remains inside

Of my mind

It is false like the sheep herder who calls,
Out about a ferocious beast who feeds on his sheep,
Even if there was no ferocious beast at all.

But at least he cried wolf, at least he cried out.

While I sit here in silence with the worst case of cotton mouth.

I've been struck by a drought, Words dry up faster than my ability to speak.

My tongue has been barren for days, no sound, genies are a thing of make believe.

I fear what might happen, meaning I embrace deciding not to take action. But when it comes to hoping, all of my thinking is wishful.

So if a genie were to be reading this, may he grant my three wishes in the form of spoken word delivered from my lips to her ears:


You're really Cute.