My olive colored doll
pains my soul.
with every twist and turn

black bandage covering mole.
left doll moving quicker
right doll strolls.

They've begun a bicker
more so a battle.
now everyone feels a bit sicker.

I prefer them simple like cattle,
And indeed they are strong
However, it's not that simple.

blasphemously wrong.
two halfs of a doll, faces a cracked
glue them now, make one real long.

I recall a time only twice
separately seasoned
did this occur.

I awoke
to sleep again.
I was not tired.
Never had I been tired.

I waited all day for the darkness to come.
To greet me with its sweet
blackberry kiss.

After the day,
something we call life,
When I lay my head down I smiled knowing
tomorrow, it will come for me again.

That sweet,
sweet darkness could not come fast
enough.

This Fall however,
I will not await on
the relationship
that darkness and I
held for those few years.

This fall
I prey
on life.

My eyes they ache
from the swole set upon them
through night.

Sleep was sleepless
awake through an unconscious
labyrinth of dark adventure.

The tears were bestowed
upon me.
For they were a symbol of my biggest fear.
Fear of a blasé attitude
of adventure
beyond the Alamo.

The salted water that flowed that night
was I
trying to walk away from the truth.
To pretend I did not hear.
But the river upon my cheek knew, it heard.


The tears they were hours of fear.
Screaming.
They knew.
Those tears held the future.
They held the knowing
that we too
will grow apart.

The angels were sent down
upon my ached knees
instead of fixing them
they refused to set them free

With my only means of transportation
held against my will
I beg and pleaded.
However,
they deemed it a thrill.

What was I to do now,
With no bottom limbs?
Well, I cut the ends of roses
also known as stems.

I cut up stems, twigs and things.
I created  mechanical legs, joints and knees,
nothing those Angels have ever seen.

I grew impatient with these gay frolicking
humans with wings.
I ripped off a bark leg
and showed them two or three things.

As I hollered and yelled,
"WHY!?"
while tears ruin my eyes.
They all stopped to shriek out a cry

the angels looked left and right,
as if there had been a secret
but to late in the night.

"We're ever so sorry, you see
what we've just received
is that we indeed failed
to see that the address here
is of someone we need
of whom it looks has past."


And that was it, those
taunting angels
gone feeling sad.

Now, I have my stems.
Original knees
and I do not
feel the slightest mad.

It is the first few freezing nights
that is when I miss you most

It is the first few fallen
dried dead leaves
that is when I miss you most

It is the blackberries, apples and yams.
that is when I miss  you most.

It is the foliage
it is the full moon.

It is the smell of warmth
flying up between each strand of hair

It is the nights where stillness
and sound
procreate


It is you,
who I miss the most.

Coffee in veins early
time slows impatiently now
water and soul mate

Petite and frail,
clearly the maverick.

death filled the bar
and it's sweet breath
attached to my throat.
it permeated through my hair
and then I could taste
the stickiness
of decades.

rushing to the double doors.
crawling,
I was suffocating,
and the fog
it soothed me.