There was a certain comfort in the time I spent
Sitting against a wall outside in the cold
They don’t tell you what its like to freeze to death
But here’s what wishing you would is like

The trees sway with another chilling breeze
There’s a little stinging pain in my toes
Its been about 20 minutes out here
My feet are the only things cold
I'm thinking
Way too much about how the frost feels
My hands become red
a little icy itch not quite numbing my fingers

Another 20 minutes go by and I can feel the cold travel
I have no intention of leaving
I don’t want to
Maybe i’ll stay all night

An hour in my feet are cold on the outsides
My ankle is freezing
I adjust my earbud and look up to the sky
My breath can be seen in the air
I think about my mother finding my body
Bitten blue with winter

2 hours in and my feet are starting to ache
Its an interesting feeling
Almost like I’ve broken a bone but can’t quite feel it
I don’t want to be here anymore
Not outside, id love to stay in the icy air all night
But here, in front of my so called home
Filled with my so-called family
I’d like to be staying somewhere else
Somewhere where they aren’t
Somewhere where the people who care about me
Are all far far away
And if I die, they know in a few days
Not right away
If I’m sick they’ll send a gift card
And call so many times I’ll have to turn off the phone

So maybe I’ll just sit here
And let nature have its way with me
Because I'm not ready to go back in
And live in a “family”

drown in the dark
            cleansed of all vital signs  ; great relief
cold fish dreamed a thrill
        drowning in the great salivation
           a deoxygenated chill of perish
vote free the sponge of your formation
give to the new life that can fend
                                           fed off of your spoil
a greater survivor in this stern habitat
                can carry on your energy and wealth

Let me walk along the roads like a wanderer
I’ll glance at the beggars
Side eye the kids walking home
Someone asks if i'm selling
I say not today
The nights are cold
Grass and dirt stain my old clothes
Traffic sounds
Anger and wrath
Where am I going?
Where will I go from here?
I don't know

dear bill,

so sweet of you
to leave behind
a paper jot
for me to find

for ev’ry breakfast
lunch and tea
gone missing since
you married me;

- however -

such wilfulness
I do condemn
each crust and crumb,
each stone and stem,

each potluck plum
purloined at night
to satisfy
your appetite;

this doctor’s wife
has had her fill
of poetry
and bitter pills,

and crumpled drafts
in juicy scrawl
appended to
the icebox door;

your words do not
a meal make
how many more
must I forsake

- meals, that is -

before your page
is fit for press
and I can sup
on more…not less

love, floss

ps dinner’s in the oven, probably

We climbed in the back
And I laid in your lap
While your hands ran gently through my hair

Oh I'll never re-feel
How your fingers had healed
And your absence has peeled it all back again

And again I fall
Outside a stranger's walls
Cause it's comfort and warmth at a distance

I wont break them down
Or keep them around
I prefer a more temporary assistance

Sometimes we get cold
With no sight of a flame
We get a little bold
To forget the next day

And again we default
To pouring asphalt
Leaving old streets below to decay