the black lines
i draw across my wrist
have nothing to the red blood
that washes away with my tears

the black lines
i draw across my wrist
keep me sane
because i can
rinse away the sorrow

the black lines
i draw across my wrist
can't take away
the pain of tomorrow
but can take away
the pain of today

the black lines
I draw across my wrist
can't compare to
the sharpness of
the smooth silver blade
i tore out of a
pencil sharpener

The black lines
i draw across my wrist
won't last for long
not leaving a scar
nor a sign that shows
i am not strong enough

She wiped her hands clean

On the ***** dish rag

And threw out the empty bottle.

She said

“Oh well,”

And opened another.

Sent my tear-stained shirt off to the laundry
Nothing else more to worry
Sleeves would be as bold as of an army
Collar's persnickety like the majesty
Cleansed and free from insanity
No traces of crumples and folds
From any of your memories.

Beams of light explode over the soft sand,
i can feel the warmth on my face as i sit on the beach,
sinking softly into natures warm bed.
The light seems to turn everything it touches
into a glowing ball of light,
as if god himself is smiling down at the dawn of a new day.
The beach is deserted apart from a few seagulls
that seem to share this enlightened appreciation.
I grab my board and walk slowly towards the sand,
my feet sinking into the grains,
feeling the consistency change as the water laps at my ankles.
My wetsuit keeps me surprisingly warm
as the cold water rises slowly, and i close my eyes,
holding my board under one arm.
I smell the salt, the fresh air, this is what beauty is.
I wander in, losing myself in this new environment.
I duck quickly underwater wetting my hair and face,
floating weightlessly in the water for a second,
before rising, feeling fresh as i grab my floating board and straddle it.
Leaning forward, i can seeing fish scatter
as the first wave washes over me
like a tilde wave of emotions and stress,
i wipe the slate clean,
i am the tabula rasa and this is a new day.

Her voice would cleanse me, but
Her voice-mail popped every last
Bubble in the bath water.
Her phone rang and rang.
Wringing me out.
Leaving each ring
In the bathtub.
-
I thought you were still in the shower
but I found you in the sunlight that the patio keeps.
I missed the tightening of your skin as it dried.
Then it loosened you in its warmth just to
Show me the sweat beading. Growing wherever
Like seeds let go from the wind; held no longer
Than they should have been.
-
It was a careless orchard.
Rowed haphazardly.
The organics of now
Fruitful and ripe
But only for that moment.