The other day I thought about you, and by that I mean that I wasn't thinking much at all. I stare at the ceiling and count the cracks in it and fall asleep only to wake up to the sound of some imaginary rain hitting the roof once. I don't remember leaving my door cracked, but the wind pushed it wide open again. I imagine (I hope) I will find your arm behind the door, but for now it's just another ghost leaning on the door jamb. Your name is the first thing that comes up when I flip on every light in my house, trying to find the source of the noises I swear you're making, and your name is the last thing I can see before the bulbs go out. I'm tracing holes in the wall - holes I've created - and imagine those holes are on you and I am tracing their edges. I have to trace something these days, or the walls will fall from my knuckles fighting them too much, so I take a black pen and trace letters from my imagination and write these things down on paper, bearing down so hard that they begin to carve into the desk, so that not even the wood can forget about you.

There was nothing plastic
About the way your smile showed
Or about the way your arms felt
But a voice in the back of my head told me so
And last weekend
I melted a carpet I thought was wool
You could have fooled me
Except now there is a hard, shiny, iron-shaped mark
Plastered into the carpet's soft mat
To be honest, I was a little disgusted
When I pulled the iron away and found
Strings of green and red clinging to it like bubblegum
And to be honest, I felt a little disgusted with myself
Not to mention you
When I left a handprint in your soft back
And strings of skin still sticking to my palm
Prove you, my little plastic boy, are just a doll
By all the tests that matter
A human illusion too easily destroyed
By an excess of warmth

Stop showing
You love me
A little at a time.

Stop saying
You care
Bit by bit.

Stop keeping
Me here
For tiny pieces of time.

Because I need
All of you
Not piece by piece.

I love
All of you
Not just some parts of you.

So love all of me
All the way
All the time.

Or let all of me go
All at once
For good.

Did you get those scars on your knees from praying?
Or ******* your fathers **** inside the barn?
or did you pray while doing it
that he would choke on his own satisfied face?
did you sit inside his church listening to him preach
hypocrisy to family and friends
while you swallowed back that bitter taste he left in your mouth
the one that tasted like an anger so pure it made your eyes water?
did you wait patiently for him to finish his speeches about
salvation, jesus, god and being sinless
whilst you prayed in that godless church, he would miss a step
fall and break his neck?
Was that thought the only thing that gave light to your eyes?
did you think these things while you brushed the dirt and gravel off your knees
wash the blood in the toilet
Put on your Sunday dress and look at yourself in the mirror
with empty eyes
that knew nothing but hate
and a shame so heavy it made you hate the act of breathing?
because every time you did it reminded you of the weight on your chest that no amount
of air
could
get
rid
of
(like the time he sat on you when you were sleeping)

Do you think that gods disciples and prostitutes have the same knees?
Do you think anyone can tell the difference?

Does the cross around your neck ever threaten
to get so tight it chokes you?
so hot, it burns your skin?

Too much praying gets you to the same place
when you're left with nowhere to dish out your pain
and too many unanswered questions, on your knees
on your ******* knees
about fathers and gravel, dirt **** and spit
*We all get ****** in the end

I glimpse your eyes staring at the shadows in my soul
Seeking to calm the wildly rushing storm
Keeping my heart out of control
Unable to keep
The beat
Pulsating whole

I stare into eyes seeking to calm the storms
To make my heart their own
Leaving chambers once cold now warm
My heart begins to pulsate
To the beat
Of a song, it's always known

Buried longings softly rush, to be finally freed
From this heart out of control
Once a half now pulsates complete
Your eyes chase shadows
Calming storms,
My heart
Returns to whole

I live a shallow life.
No one is willing to submerge too deep.
I see them all around me…
Dancing on the sand,
Their skin hot from the sun,
& burning with romance.
I let them come and go as they please,
Stepping in my puddle by the sea,
Taking away a little at a time,
Leaving me alone…yet free.
I hear the others coming,
Rolling in so gently,
Each just a passerby
Speaking to me eloquently.
I see in the distance the whole that I should be,
But here I wait, unattached…
Just like a puddle by the sea.