A tiny cake
sickly sweet

covered in fondant icing pressed paper thin and filled
with jam
or
buttercream
all one word

marzipan
made of almond  
fruit imitating

that yellow, warm, soft, sponge

Eat of me, that you may be filled

small feline
lying dormant
curled in hibernation
waiting for the cold and dark
to melt with springs returning

laughter warms that unlit space
sounding smiles light and lift
eyes meet
atmospheric shift
now is new
now holds promise like a bird
gently and with such awe

no cold no dark
only some star come down
to fill with fire and light
our hearts and minds

You want me here but I don't want to be here
You want me here but I don't want to be here
And it's not your fault I don't want to be here
But I can't escape my head
Til I get out of here.

These thoughts perpetual
This ephemeral effigy of Who I Am
Rattles around my mind
A cycle, a loop, constant, consistent
The way that they see me
Memories real or imagined
Created an image of me
And they're not my own
Well, some are my own.

And it's not that the noise in my head is too loud
It's more like the silence is deafening
And I'm defeated
Before I begin

At some point the record just scratches the needle scratches the needle and scratches the needle which wears out the grooves on the record that scratches the needle.

And I am the record and you are the needle.

And now I am flat and not useful

Nail me to a wall
Make me into a clock on the wall
Then I'll be useful
I'll tell the time
And keep a beat
With the tick of my hand
One every second

Please make me useful.

When I dream
We are still together
Or sometimes together again

When I dream
You smile with your eyes
Or sometimes curse my name

When I dream
I say I'm sorry
Or sometimes I don't have to

When I dream
And you are there
I long to stay

My only One
I stand before you
Open
Heart laid bare
I can no longer think of love
Or lovely things
Without the ache of missing you


I did not comprehend the depth of my mistake


As each day became the next
I woke
Slowly
As if from some dream

In the quiet space between thoughts
I live in a vaccuum
****** into silence

I would spend my life apologizing if I could see you one more time

To see the light of love reflected in your eyes

To brush my lips upon your lips: to feel complete.

Sometimes we hold our own hand in the dark

When its too late to call a friend,

and the hours continue to slow the closer it is to dawn



Sometimes we hold our own hand in the dark

When we can’t move from the bed

And if we did we’d be no better off



Sometimes we hold our own hand in the dark

And imagine that it belongs to someone else

And if it could maybe the rest of us could too



Belong wholly to another person

No more shackled to our own mind

No more the sole source of heat in this bed we find so wide these days




Sometimes we hold our own hand in the dark



Most times we hold our own hand in the dark