before things get rash,
we should run.
but one of us is dead,
and one of us has no legs.

so,
maybe i went overboard.
maybe i already got rash.
maybe i messed it all up,
but we can still fix this.

i wait for you to chide me like you always do,
but all you do is bleed out.
i wait for you to get back up like you always do,
but all you do is lie there.
i wait for you to fix everything like you always do,
but you’re not chiding me,
and you’re not getting up,
and you’re not fixing
everything.

you can’t really expect to get out of this just like that, can you?

you can’t get away,
i’ve made certain of that.
i made sure you would stay here right next to me,
just like always, but baby,
it doesn’t feel like always.

before the sirens of an ambulance come cat-calling your body,
before they steal you from me, promise:
“to love and to cherish, until parted
by death.”
i can’t hear you, dear, that thief’s sonorous chorus resounds;
you’ll have to speak up.
because we can still run, we can still get away from this town,
we can still steal your father’s beat-up pick-up truck and run away,
just like the songs.

honey, don’t you get it?
we’ll always be together,
“‘til death do us part,”
you swore it yourself.

well, i’m not dead yet,
but the paramedics lift you into the back of that **** ambulance,
while i’m loaded into the back of a cop car.

we are still bound by our vows.

I see your eyes enlarging with fear, as I step forward with nothing but a tear in my eyes. I really don't want to do this. But,you hurting me is repetitive like a broken record player. As I step closer, I see your face flushed as I ****** the knife back and forth. I raised the knife and stabbed you repeatedly as the blood splashed all over my body. Oh, this feeling, this spectacular feeling! I suddenly feel alive. I feel your energy enter my body as life leaves yours. As your once beautiful opaque body becomes nothing but my work of art, like a carpenter, I carved you as I wanted. Like a potter, I made you into my masterpiece. Have I gone too far? Do I no longer enjoy the feeling of blood running from my talented arm? Oh, this blood is like honey; the taste is vivid and so sweet. My dearest friend, you will forever be embedded in my memory of that wonderful night when we became one with your blood, your precious blood all over me. I feel like a celestial being. This heavenly feeling, I hope it won't fade. I hope it lasts forever. I will cherish our memories, but I will always make new friends so you don't feel lonely, my dear friend.it last forever I will cherish our memories but I will always make new friends so you don't feel lonely my dear friend.

everybody
is the sum of their parts

and some of us dream and dabble
our various parts

nip and tuck,
Botox and Ozempic

refresh, redress,
the obvious errors made


by a God-in-a-hurry,
***** got 8 billion  of us

that need care ‘n feeding,
loving and breathing

I know, I know,
this is a simplistic

my poetic tomfoolery,
What? My fav part?

the one on my head,
that separates east & west

an old familiar friend,
not very chic, but comforting

keeps me grounded,
for when I look at me

in my kindergarten
class pictures with

no front teeth, but my best
part,
still extant!

I am true to myself,
which is the most
important
part of truth

How many times can I write a "break up" poem?

Screaming into my empty pages,

"This is it,
                  I'm finally
                                      DONE. " 

I still don't leave, though,
Of course I don't.
Is this what its like to be crazy?
You're the only place I know.
        
Am I insane?
Whos to say?


If you ask me, I wasnt always this way.
I'm almost sure of it.

But if I'm insane, how would I even tell?

For all I know,
I could be in an asylum right now, rocking back and forth in a corner,
just talking to myself.

How would I even know?
Could I even guess?


The terrifying part is,
I wouldn't.

Crazy people never realize they are crazy,
Do they?

So maybe none of this is real. ...

...Maybe HE'S not real...

Maybe we never fell in love,
never had our child,
never planned our future together.

But that was all before the abuse.

                       ...The abuse..... 

                        Was that even real?
I'm not sure anymore...

   Maybe it wasnt.
Maybe, we never even met.

Well if thats the case, and we never met,
I guess thats good.

Because never meeting me, is what you told me you wished for,

right?

                    ...Or...
                    I don't  know.
Did you?

She doesn't understand her
biology.
Her need for extra attention.
Her desire to
chirp and meow
constantly, and raise her
**** in the air.

She gazes out the
window with
longing in her
golden eyes.
Her calls through the
screen bring no
visitors.
Little lonely orphan.

She sits with me while
I write at my large
maple desk.
She swats at the
purple orchid.
It drives her batty.
I've been there.
Lost in the
smell and taste of
flowers.
She wanders over to
the Starry Night
painting and looks
dizzy at the sky.
She lifts her **** in
the air and stutter steps
rapidly with her
back paws.

When I got her and
her sister, I thought they
had *****.
I named him (her)
Bukowski.
She comes to the
name
and seems to like it.
Pray for me.
Buk's in heat.

Silence is a weird thing
Too much can make a man crazy
Too little could do the same

Yet here I sit in silence
Dreading the past
And forgetting the present

But what about the future you ask?
Why worry of what’s next
Why plan a next step

To live is to die
I accept the moment for what is
Which is grateful for what was

I have no code to myself
Just a rule or two
Mostly rewritten

So go ahead and cry today
Save your energy for what may
And try to save your pity

the clouds float with a sense of melancholy this day,
leaving a lingering sensation of unease echoing below
the well of my insomnia...

the eclipse has cast a dulling shade upon my adulthood.
Where I once felt the ember of passion,
there now lays bare a garden of wilting lavender...