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My body on the stainless steel.
They drain my blood out while
pumping life back into in me.
I'm dressed in the latest style.
They make me up like a *****.
I finally look best to please.
Friends never see the corpse.
They only see their memories.
there's a little room
with a round door
in the back of my heart
with a view of the ocean
it's here where i find myself
forgiving everyone and everything

the floorboards are worn smooth
from all my returning
i pass through corridors
where conversations
circle like trapped birds

but here, in this back room
there is only morning light
on bare wood, and a single chair
where i sit and watch waves
erase themselves over and over

sometimes i stay until sunset
when the water turns to copper
i know i'll leave again
dissolving into the sweet
clutter of being human,
my heart a crowded kitchen

but the door stays there
round like a full moon
waiting, and the waves
keep writing their one word
over and over: return
listen to the server, who
clasping the teapot,
tells us revelations
of those who live, who divorce
and warm the ***.
.
you're at the front door                                    
you're in through the front door   my door 
  without knocking
face flushed with malice and ****** visions  
"uh-huh" i say
there's a cotten shopping bag                          
                    of who-fears-what   in one mitt
and you throw yourself                    
                   on my sunken couch
you unzip those mad pricy leather boots
with flames down the sides
and clutch your bag to your chest  
with meaning and taunt
        leaning toward
                  a smile  crocodiles your face
          your clock ; three forty seven
your mind ; immersed in some midnight woo
a witching verse and a fortune boastful and blue
am i to be involved in your clockwork mockery ?
(i have been your collaborator                          
              and coal mine canary in the past)
  do i even want to be invited ?
i don't know any better   i am  as always  excited
"alright, i'll bite .. what's in the bag ?" i say
.

jump     -     start
heart-wired  flash-fired
fore and aft      i'm wit-lashed
ride   a  scutting  state   (oh-my-hate)
glare   at the creature  (will  it  look  away ?)
i'm    jolty      a    s l e e p y  menace
death        in  the  drivers   seat
slur down  drowsing
jump     -    start

.
original notes removed from 'results of sleep deprivation'

jump-start         heart-wired                                
    flash-fired   back and forth
wit-lashed by my scutting state
glaring my hate at the creature
till  it at least looks away
i am both jolty and sleepy
most unwelcome behind the wheel
unappealing company
company halt
living life at the end of my rope
feet desperately hunting for solid ground
afraid of the day I won't be able to cope
when death knocks it doesn't always make a sound
i struggle to convince myself of hope
while the good side of life barely comes around
day to day is generally a slippery *****
if not sliding down
it's just 'round and 'round you go
on this rickety merry-go-round

©2024
I'm not happy here
With you
Yeah you know it's true
You feel my destain for you

But you hate me too
You do
Don't even try and lie
I'm rubber, you're glue

So we sit in blue
And stew
Thinking 'bout revenge
This trend is nothing new

Then it's you get me
And I get you
The toxic back and forth
Means we'll never get through

It's just what we do
It's pathetic to
Those who have to see
What we put each other through

©2024
I want to live in a house where silence reigns,
to hear the echo of sounds drifting in from the yard.
To live like the beautiful tales written on the pages of a book,
to love like Juliet,
and to be able to die with her.
He will come in the evening, open the door,
we'll talk simply.
Our desires are the same,
don’t we all long for peace.
 Oct 29 Sam Lawrence
Jill
The beach in winter is my crying place
The shower will do
Sometimes the car
The tucked-away toilets at work
They are containers
But the beach is
My accomplice

We mourn together, weather gives us room
The wind assists, insists that others leave
If some resist, enlists the sand to
Reinforce the clear command with
Stinging pressure, stresser that the
Beach in winter is for us
And us alone
To sit
And safely grieve
©2024
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