The door opens to world beyond
Say one final goodbye
We wish our time lasted longer
Your turn to be lifted into the sky
Always aware you were an angel
Now you have finally got wings to fly

she may have claimed
that she could always
find one of those rare
desperately sought
four-leaf clovers
amongst any cluster
that had sprouted
amidst the grass
and **** growth
of park or pasture
but never once did she
try to find one
for me

hold me because it’s achingly difficult.
you jumped out a window
and landed face-first into the squishy grass
i would have caught you,
but it was too late.
somehow it always is.
i jumped into your arms,
but your body was so cold.
a starved mind, a clueless nomad
i sink into bathtubs
and i don’t have organs
i am an invisible skeleton.
i wear shoes
that are too
tight around my ankles
and my legs hate each other
and i hate them too—
what a disgraceful feud.
somehow when i touched you,
you melted into the background
of the stage i wasn’t aware that i consented to.
permission overlooked
forgiveness not a given.
this is the end.
perhaps not what i had envisioned—
not that it matters.
it doesn’t.
i’m picking blots in my bloodstream.
the popping forehead ventricles
the insanity so familiar
and so homely.
home-cooked meals, hearts drawn out onto my back.
it’s too late for me to me to say i’m sorry
or to pray for myself.
it’s too late to love.
i insist
but the road i walk down is dusty chemicals
and your hand is not placed precisely in mine.
it’s too late this time.
somehow it always is.

I would die 1000 different deaths
If only to be sure
That I could wake up just the once
To you knocking at my door
I would live 1000 different lives
Suffer millions more listless days
For just the chance
That I could wake up to your face

“I will always remember you”

raise you hand if honesty
yet lives inside your muscle
memory of brain, of heart,
there is no one here who hasn’t
uttered them fool lying words

with difficulty we struggle to up
raise faces and places, moments
and images no longer mirrored
within the frontmost places of
our recollection, that searing then,
itself scorched, lichen+moss covered,
our greatest pains, pleasures sworn
allegiances to these razored inflection
points, now scoured by rusty hazes,
and we wonder what has become
of us, what we valued so to savor
as forever memories, their names
gray lady shrouded, and there is
no internet site to aid in self-recovery,
for our selfish selves have been altered,
time, new loves, guilt and other stuff
intersect with mind’s eyes and no mas-
more synapses paths instant linkages

I know you will vociferously argue but
it is almost physical, our shame at losing
them and ourselves, in the morass that
time digs daily deeper for what grieves
us is that losing as the end rushes to close
our story, makes us pick up pen and finger
scratch as best we can inside the lines on
our faces that are/had proofs, witnesses,
that once, we were there at the places,
whose names are no longer mapped any

where, so deep, no archivist’s submersible dare
fathom those fathom’s darkest we would need
to explore without the possibility that we
might implode if we sunk so far to rip apart sea
forests we knowingly, secret-planted to coverup
her memory, the words spoken, the oaths
and promises, we swore, for instance, simply
by saying, “I will always remember you”

p.s. and my self-shaming so great, that my
asking for forgiveness is buried so fast, it
may, not ever been real, just another fiction


Jul  6th, 8:36 AM,

She’s always been the apple of my eye,
once on a branch far too high.
Both the sun and moon within my sky,
I’ll love her until the day I die.

When she walks on me she walks without shoes
and when she puzzles me she still gives me clues.
She takes my blacks and makes them blues,
but does she have as much as me to lose?
And in every life will it be me she’ll still choose?

She’s my everything and more;
the only one I scribble these silly poems for.
Almost in my blood, she’s in me to my core,
the only one I could ever adore.

When she talks to me she talks without game,
each word she says is soft, I love the way she says my name,
it’s nothing noticeable but noticeably not the same.
She sets me ablaze from a simple flame,
a breath of air that I wished for came.

It’s something that no one could understand
and each day it only seems to grow.
I could cut off and sever each hand,
and still not manage to ever let go.
I wake up and cherish every single day,
and I’m thankful for each past and coming year.
My love I could never drift away;
I was always meant to be here.