When Friday buried Thursday
at the cemetery
I was eating eggs and
bacon in my bathrobe.
The other days wore black
attire to the burial
and brought white geraniums.
I stood in silence for three minutes
after I finished my breakfast
then wrote a note for the weekend:

“My time will come,
don’t wait for me,”

and left.

We were on cloud nine,
You called me sunshine,
but that was when
you were mine.

Long curly hair, afloat in the breeze
short,swift glances
and a deep longing to meet yours;--
-No!
I refuse to fall for you again.
Red full lips, parted;ready to speak,
dry parched throat, denies such action-
-I said, 'No' .
Faster and faster races a shattered heart,
shards clawing on the inside; but you advance nonetheless.
and then... a deafning silence.
come hear the sound of my breaking heart,
come feel the cold raging inside,
come taste the sorrow I now hate.
Is it possible you heard?
That you felt ?
That you tasted?
Is it possible that--
Gentle hands caress me,
And a wamth engulfs what little frame i have;
silencing the screaming winds.
Deep brown eyes wander accross my still face,
finding what exactly; I'll never know.

To Love You Is To Love Malnourished.

You used to serve I Love Yous with my Morning Coffee.
Kisses With My Creamer.
Sing “You Are My Sunshine” With My Sugar.
Stir It up in a blender.

To Love You Is To Love Malnourished.

You Used to ask Questions About My Day.
Serve Feedback With My Steak.
Sing To The Records That I’d Play.
I Think About You Every Day.

To Love You Is To Love Malnourished

Now Days and Nights are all too Similar.
Missing You Has Become All Too Familiar.
I Miss You In The Summer, The Fall, And The Winter.
I Look into the Mirror.
At My Figure Without Filter.
I Don’t Know My Mom, My Dad, Or My Sister.
Tears Flow Like a River.

To Love You Is To Love Malnourished

To Wake up at Midnight.
Write a Poem about the Moonlight.
Write our Names out and then Rewrite
You’re My Busted Up Brake Light
Unable to Fly Box Kite
Poems That I Recite
Late To School Stop Lights
Oklahoma Frostbite

To Love You Is To Love Malnourished
Look at Every Picture.
Listen to The Scriptures.
Wish That I Could Be With Her.
Wish Our Love Was Thicker, and Richer, and Didn’t Go Quicker.

To Love You Is To Love Malnourished

When The One That You Love You Have To Unsee.
They What You Love You Have To Set Free.
Choice A was to Love, She Choose Choice B.
Call Me Rude, Hateful, and OutRight Obscene.
But To love You Like I Do Is Painful and Weak.

To Love You Is To Love Malnourished.

Don't let me Lord into the ripe old age
when delirium is the only thing in my head
I don't know when I **** or wet the bed
my mouths can't open a tube in my nose
takes not but teases the end looming close.

Don't let me Lord into the ripe old age
when my legs just wouldn't stand by themselves
can move me nowhere without a hand to help
I don't know when  I would fall on my face
flirts me but fails me that last cold embrace.

Don't let me Lord into the ripe old age
when the marks of time are mind crunching pain
the ones around me don't see a gain
in the struggled breaths that force me to live
defer their tears to mourn and grieve.

Don't let me Lord into the ripe old age
I beg to leave before my mind leaves me
before the loved ones ask wearily
O Lord why not spare us the agony
hasten the end let him die quickly.

How sadly the bird
In  his cage
Watches the butterflies

i don't write
poems
anymore
the words
are not
in my head
to be written
to be said
they are not
in my heart
to be etched
upon the page
they no longer
linger
upon my tongue
whispering
to be sung..
the space
they once
poured from
that hole
within my chest
has been

.. healed?

and
i find
i do not
write
poems
anymore..

not
any
more

i find
myself living
instead

My friend please put an end
To your dreadful thirst