I can't seem to sleep anymore
It's because of you
You know that
I imagine the shape  
Of your body beside mine
Warming and unexplainable
The way it feels as I lay
Curled up beside you
But not really.
I'm alone with the empty shape
Of your body beside mine
Cold and explainable
The way it feels as I lay
Because I'm curled up, not beside you
I'm sleeping without you
and I can't seem to sleep anymore.

never tell a sad girl that she is an artist

or she will spend the rest of her life crying out for the moon

and pressing flowers into books

she will hide stashes of poems under the mattress like a ******

and she will try to start fires with her tongue

her fingertips stained blue from the sadness in her spine

her eyes will become maps of new cities

but when she closes them

she will be like that girl in the old photographs again

with the floral dresses and tragically fair hair

who held hands and cried

and felt no need to write about it

I met her at church
before we gave up god and
started kissing girls

Originally posted one year ago


Things I'll Never Be

So many things I'll never be,
elegant, tall and thin,
with an Englishman's confidence.
Blonde and beautiful, transformational, radiating,
possessing a Marilyn Monroe spell magical,
nope, not me.

Some things I was, I'll never be again.
Never be a sad-eyed teenager again, and for this,
in my morning prayers, I utter a blessing,
(tho my hormones have yet to be informed!)

Soul of brevity, poetically,
I'll never be, this insightful critique,
("Your poems are too long")
I've received in multiplicity, from sources internationally,
perhaps, lucky me, you've read this far?

Surely still a chance that an angel will touch my lips,
my internal parts sign a final treaty, inside an armistice,
night sweats sighs a thing fully forgot,
poetry writing can now be dispatched,
maybe that will be my Act III,
if I can stay awake for it.

Switches in my brain are shutting down this elegy,
knowing that a dozen stanzas will die stillborn,
so herein and here now, the door closes,
a parting shot escapes over the door sill.

A joy thin threads within, pumped thru my ventricles,
brook springs from sources non-DNA, holy external,
oft hid, well disguised under actor's white face makeup,
this peculiar joy, as long as it embraces me and I, it,

I'll never be unhappy any more.

I apologize for the stains on the pillow case,
I could not hold it in again.
The black that seeps into the flowers on the edge,
Are just from my eyes,
A little makeup remover should do the job fine.
The clothes missing from the closet are all mine, I swear.
I left your jerseys on the dresser, folded under the picture of us.
Please forgive the mess in the kitchen,
I began to make pancakes, but found myself in a heap on the floor,
While the batter bubbled under the stove.
I was sobbing because I am going to miss everything about this house.
That is no reason to stay here, I know that now.
I will miss Sundays, the smell of brunch from the hall,
And the glow of the tv when you fall asleep.
I found you countless times on the couch,
But never thought to move you to the bed.

The bathroom should be in good order,
The hair straightener will finally be out of your way.
I cleaned up the hair that I shed all over the house,
Because I know how much you hate it.
I began to vacuum the carpets, but I kept crying on them,
The hot tears would dry under the vacuum,
But I couldn't find the energy to keep going.

I know you won't understand why I am leaving,
Which is why this letter is for you,
And why I can't be here when you come home.
Your blue eyes would just drag me back to bed,
Like they have a hundred times.
I couldn't handle the grayness of your love anymore,
The way you couldn't commit to the distant future,
Or even to tomorrow.
We shared a house for ***** sake.
I hope you find the one you need,
I hope she cleans better than me,
I'm sorry that I am hurting you.
But I am happy that this is for me.
Sincerely,
Me