Sometimes I sit
in my nook by the
heater in the kitchen
with a cup of coffee
a glass of water and
a cigarette
and I just stare at
this website while
silently worrying
how many people have
actually read this?
680 individual human beings
680 parts that contribute to
the whole
that's a lot to me
seeing as i am only
one person

life beats hard in my neck
your pulse creates a duet
when my melody becomes erratic,
will you be pounding my chest?

Tonight, I lean against the windowpane,
Crack it open to the sound of January rain
That falls soft in the shadows of trees, and sings.
I inhale, dream of you and the smell of spring;
(I am the roots that grow from the detritus of dead and dying things.)

I want to cut myself on the jagged edge of your mind,
Knees raw and weeping red as I traverse the other side,
I want to scream through the walls of your philosophy,
Until my voice rips ragged, until every sound is profanity.
I want to drag you back from this obscenity.

I want to eat your heavy, burdened heart and offer one fresh,
Torn ripe and ****** straight from the beast’s chest
Into my cupped palms, pounding fuchsia and new: Take it.
Take back the strength it stole from you.

I want to crawl through the collapsed tunnels of your cancered mind,
Down deep chasms where your weary soul withdrew,
Past where you lost your way and dug your grave
To find the opening where sunlight once filtered through;
Then I would squat there, **** love
Until it stuck to your ribs and grew—
Until you glowed with the health of it, until
You rose from dirt or ashes or wherever the ****— and flew.
So claw out from that cave, and let the rain cleanse you.

For this morning it was winter, and you were dead;
But tonight is spring..

Let’s begin again.

I am the Aphrodite
Goddess
Woman
Lover
Mate
From my double D’s
To scarred up knees
The pistol whipped
Stamen ready
Lady your wife
Warns you about
My mouth is open
And eyes wide shut
Speaking truths
Most cannot fathom
Perhaps
Ignore
Flower blossom
Open wide
Blooming in my winter
A goddess
Addict
Mind of a lady
And ***** face
Fire in your belly
Ice in my veins
From polished nails
To scented hair
Shaved skin
Smooth
All lady
With an attitude
I have lived
Enough hell
To know my
Heaven
A religion
Between my thighs
The Goddess
Of inhibition
Flash of animal
In my eyes
I dig my nails
Deep
Inside pink flesh
And whisper
What you want to hear
So here’s your lady
A *****
A *****
Queen for a day
And lifelong
*****…

Do you know what it’s like
for me
looking at
a half empty
bottle of wine?

It is
Like it is
for a chain smoker
who sees
Cigarette butts on the ground
That are only half smoked.

It’s like when
The alcoholic
Sees the perfect tumbler
with just the right amount of ice
and with the pristine glass craftsmanship
that makes that
Satisfying “clink”ing sound
Whenever it hits the side table or counter.

I SUFFER
When I see such a sight.
And I wouldn’t call it
Addiction
As much as I call it
Jealousy.

For me, it’s torture
Realizing
That people buy the bottle
To get drunk
Or to have fun
Rather than
To forget
Like I do.

I don't know what it is,
but I distrust myself
when I start to like a girl
a lot.

The elements have merged into solicitude,
Spasms of violets rise above the mud
And ****, and soon the birds and ancients
Will be starting to arrive, bereaving points
South. But never mind. It is not painful to discuss
His death. I have been primed for this --
For separation -- for so long. But still his face assaults
Me; I can hear that car careen again, the crowd coagulate on
  asphalt
In my sleep. And watching him, I feel my legs like snow
That let him finally let him go
As he lies draining there. And see
How even he did not get to keep that lovely body.