Monster,
making me your monster,
I know your games

I may be trapped
but I will
I will
find my way out,
**** you
life is beautiful,
I am ID
and ED
and GOD
and everything else that has mixed meanings
******* dichotomies
and word jumbles
and brains splattered,
right here. Turn away, go back to your pattern,
go back to your story and be ******* comfortable.

Not today, I said to the monster,
standing up,
you manifest as a bug
a cockroach, I hate those things,
and I squish you.

You told me that I would never be abandoned.

Tell that to the boy I left behind.

Because he never knew what friendship was until God appeared in the form of harsh words.

Now he doesn't know what to say.

Tonight, love holds me.
Tonight love pours out of me
as wine into a glass
before an anxious eye.
I have enough love for all
I can rain it down from the sky.
Tonight, if you find yourself
without love you can share mine.
If you find yourself adrift at sea
I will cast you out a line.
Tonight, love holds me.

I'm on my back
The darkness so heavy before my face I could be looking into the depths of a well
The eternity of a starless universe
The pupil in the eye of a monstrous monster
And never even know.

Never know,
Never care (what's the difference, really?),
because I'm thinking of you.
Of your breath on my neck
Your arms on my ribs
Your name on my lips.

Staring into the deepest part of the deepest ocean
The black abyss of a cave unexplored
The yawning jaws of a mile-wide rift in the earth
And I couldn't give less of a ****

Because I'm busy thinking
About you.

start conversations you can’t end

like when our country is in war

& you don’t know where to begin.

Go, go, go, go, go and don't
stop. You're doing things.
It's impossible to stop.

Move, breathe, think, try to slow down.
It's impossible to stop.

The world is waiting for you.
The world is working with you.
Go smell a flower - you aren't slowing down,
you're just doing another thing worth doing.
Everything is going - try to wrap your head around it -
everything just changed, and so did you.

How come stuffed animals get old?
You wanted to pretend that your parents weren't "cool" and you'd grown up so much that you didn't have those moments in the middle of the night where silence surrounds you and you're struck by the fact that you're desperately, helplessly alone and afraid- or maybe you did but you wouldn't need something to squeeze for reassurance.
You never asked until someone told you, and then you wanted to be best friends with your mom and the quiet, intellectual boy who sat in the corner and never took notes or made eye contact- you called yourself an artist so that you could be the millionth first girl to paint their hair and cut it short and stop sleeping except in the middle of the day.
You started to fear sunshine, probably because you couldn't see yourself and didn't want anyone else to, either. You avoided mirrors and moments alone, and you forgot what made your fingers so delicate - it wasn't the loose grip on a cigarette - and you forgot what your voice sounded like because you never stopped talking; it became your peaceful silence to dress up as somebody with confidence and talk and laugh without hearing what you say and touch as many bodies as you can - when it's only skin, they're all the same...
People move too much to hold you up, and someone let you drop, more than once... You can keep getting as angry as you want, but it isn't their lack of love that's keeping you from realizing that you've been the one leaning on people and trying to use other people's feet... They're trying to love you, but it's hard because you never stopped long enough in front of a mirror to figure out who the ******* are.
They'll always be there, and you'll be the last person to realize that you need to leave them behind.

This stagnancy is a hate crime, colored red and purple like the bruise on my hip that grew and grew from crashing into the floor, until it could have been a painting made from squashed grapes and cherries.

It expanded with my fascination and my sickness. I was the hawk watching, the worm writhing, the fly that buzzed waiting for blood to spurt from the
Colors:
were my eyelids and, soon enough, my blanketed warmth, consuming me
whole.

Then the water came rushing, running down my face in torrents to hide my tears, down my spine to shock my shivers loose and away: I stood up in the waterfall and opened my eyes and
Awoke:
in my skin, alive, laughing, dry,
whole.

I still get bruises, but I'm healthy.
I don't cry, I speak:
with the words I am trying to learn.

Laughing fear away, away
Words can't feel nor can they sway
Preaching orders to blind reporters
"Stay, don't stay, and never
ever pray"

Depravity and gravity, stolid,
You can't pretend these things aren't solid,
An idea is an idea
was an idea
was once a thought
and then forgot.