She egresses from a pool of blue and straight into the colorless, Californian dregs of summer.

Each passing plane reminding her how stuck she is.

The question remains whether some people are doomed to just survive, a yearning for freedom following them around, until they learn to numb themselves to such aspirations.

Faraway trains pass by.

The sound in their whistles knowing the events she will litigate with herself for years to come until it empties the contents of her soul.

In a dream, I saw myself,
Then erupted into tears.
The innocence shown then
Was destroyed throughout the years.

A glass shattered to a million pieces,
Will never be the same.
Glue it together if you want,
All it keeps is its name.

A car left abandoned,
Falls into disrepair.
It will never run right,
Upon this I swear.

People are the same,
Clinging to a better time.
Staying stuck in place,
Destined to never climb.

In a dream, I saw myself,
Then erupted into tears.
The innocence shown then
Was destroyed throughout the years.

Life is a series of demands. Hurry up, perform.
Do your homework, write a paper, oh and read 300 pages,
get in those volunteer hours, grab those lab credentials.
I get busy, caught up in projects and I forget stuff
like dinnertime, peeing before it’s an emergency,
or like calling you - last night.
On vacation I’m unplugged, I’m avoiding focus,
I’m not paying attention, my mind’s wandering.
I’d want you less if it were required by law.
I imagine your huge, brown saucer eyes
exhibiting a wounded, blaming expression and I can’t.
Maybe there’s a biological explanation, yes, that’s it,
I’m missing an enzyme, I have a glandular disorder
that prevents long distance relationships from working.
No, not work - It can’t be work - it should be exciting.
Is it a crime to want some time off from pressure?
I’m not asking for a pony.
Just a sabbatical couple of weeks away from obligations.
I felt so guilty that I went to Karen (Lisa’s mom) about it.
We talked for over an hour, she’s so smart, I love her.
She reminded me about the recent lockdowns
and how years of skyping and remote learning
might affect (dull-down) a long distance romance.  
I told her what you said, about my sinatra psyche
and she said although I seem absurdly secure,
I’m probably still figuring things out - and that’s ok.
There’s really no substitute for talking to a mom.
I called you - and left a message - I hope you understand.
I turned my phone off - for now.

We met in kindergarten
Miss Wolfe’s class
Into an ear I whisper
A shy boy’s bargain

I knock on your door
Pray the dog
Doesn’t **** me
Seems like a metaphor

Laughter and chasing geese
Stealing glances
And prances in the woods
Sprained ankles in the creek

Your moon-drenched family room
And our primal need
Bodies glide
Into foreign feelings
I concede

We’re both shaving now
Not children
Yet not men
In between and fooling around

In my attic bedroom
Space Jam soundtrack
Hoping my mom doesn’t hear us
My hands on your back

Then moving down
Committing little sins
Shhhhhh
Don’t make a sound

Then the bed of my dad’s truck
Some hand stuff
Never a ****
Never enough

You get up and leave
I want you to stay
I play the radio
97 ZOK

Meredith Brooks
And I hate the world today
Because I’m a *****
But I like me this way

Fifteen and fevered
Down Mix Street
I rollerblade
Turn right on Worth
My love for you
Is such a sad parade

Remember when
We camped on the lawn
Quiet light and secrets
Then that wicked dawn

Dragging us back
Into a world
Where our desires
Don’t belong

We are strangers now
With a little bit of everything
All rolled into memory
Like a sacred vow

I’m your hell
I’m your dream
Do you remember anything?

I recall it all
Your tousled hair
And my forbidden grin
I think you live in Wisconsin

i always found it easier to blame myself
responsible for your feelings
incapable of handling my own
i felt so much wiser when things were unknown
now I stand in the future and now I stand in the future and now I stand in the future
but im still the same age
im still the same
12 with that look on my face
14 with a secret to trace
16 with the weight of the world
18 with so much to conquer
20 with nothing to do
20 with nothing to prove
20 with nothing to lose
maybe the cycle stops when I do
but this time, blame yourself.

Start by wearing your heart on your sleeve.
You don't know any better yet,
up to this point the world has been good to you.
When your heart starts catching
on door knobs
and being battered against the black top,
you carefully tuck the gently scratched ***** in your pocket.

In your pocket,
out of sight
it's a little harder for the bruises to land.
Over time
the blood stain of time spent hidden
seeps through.
When the first blow lands
it knocks the wind from you.
You still don't lock your heart up.
You just move it back into your chest.

You don't sew yourself shut,
cracked ribs spread wide,
a tourniquet wrapped around one chamber,
the abused ***** still trying to beat
it's an erratic rhythm,
but it's a pulse.
It's not even shocking,
when daggers come from the front
or behind
and twist into the gnarled flesh.

Arterial spray,
broken pieces you've given away,
cover the walls.
Bones curl around
to try to protect you,
but you've never been able
to close yourself off completely.
The worst part is,
you sort of enjoy the pain.
For a moment,
the heart remembers
before the first bruises marred the skin,
before you built a cage to exist within.

I was alone in the abyss, searching far and wide,
Its smile shot to me like an illuminating light.
I tried to grab the beam but there was a voice that said
Darling the beam isn't real, just ask for it's hand.
And out it came a hand so so bright
The darkness surrounding was consumed by its light.
The colors I saw were vivid and clear, all I needed was this hand to wipe away my tears


Alas the beam couldn't wash away my sins, I needed to see more and was consumed by greed.
It's human nature, it's our need. I wanted to see more of you, from the abyss I wanted to be freed.
The hand pulled away with such might and such speed and told me it didn't want to mislead.
I begged and begged but no matter my plead, I was gray and it was bright, it couldn't mix with my creed.


To the hand now I say, why did u illuminate my night to day.
If I had never known the brightness of the colors, the world around me would've remained gray.
Now as you slowly pull back your beam I ask in dismay, as you go please take this pain away.

if only any crowd i enter
could give me that same old
mystic ecstatic airborne drug
of elated nightblindness...

or at least a break from this
damp dormant disillusionment,

you would definitely find me
anywhere roaming rampant
restless and so discontent—

        —instead of gasping
        for oxygen that
       we didn't already
        use up together,

or suffocating myself
with the refused exhales
i used to scream out
as soon as you weren't there
to listen to me obediently
accordingly silently suffer...

                 you did tell me once before
      that you will do to me
                     ...whatever you wanted to;

well, now that i seem to
no longer matter to you,
would you be so kind
and take away all this*
useless infected air away too?

       cause if breathing
   just means to inhale
            the same breath i used to
         cry out every single night
    i let you scar and bruise me...