how can some thing
so clean
be so *****

that it floods our fears
wakes up our dead
breaks down our minds
and replaces it with dread

a dread that’s but fuel
to sate the hungry
the desperately numb
but worth no money

for we scrub
and scrub

until the skin
peels off our flesh

until the clocks
lose their minute hands

until the ground
quivers to no more

until the clouds
trap too much in

until the lines
turn into just words

until the earth
is just fine dirt

but we can wait
patiently
even with such hurt

disappointed and embarrassed,
my heart is heavy.

you make me sad...
not because of who you are,
but because of who i imagined you to be.

I'd see that face that savaged nights
Picasso’s artful effigy scowls
on plate glass windows
high rise grimaces
mock

Is this for real, for he's sailed on
beyond deep seas to places wild
do clouds stoop down to part
stop searching vapid
drive

Or is this his iconic stride
dark overcoat pulled high
winds snatching imprints
left behind in harried
haste

Your car turns the corner and flees my gaze
As I wipe the streams of agony from my face
Dreading the miles that disconnect our bodies
And leave our hearts to face the withdrawal
The waves of pain that split cracks through my soul
The pain of waking up to an empty bed
The pain of reaching for a hand that’s no longer there
Of clinging to my phone to await the ping of your next sonnet and the ring that calls me to your voice
Of longing that has surrounded my heart with iron bars of loneliness
Of the circumstantial separation that bursts my mind into roaring flames
But I still await the next time you pull into my driveway
I still smile as I count the days until I run into your arms once again
I acknowledge that this tormenting cycle will someday end
And we’ll no longer have to endure another painfully long goodbye.

She contemplated waking up before the rain
In the hopes of feeling something--
Something other than dreary dreadful dread.
Maybe that sounds childish
And maybe, just maybe, that's okay.

I'm dreading.

To pack everything,
from the place we used to call ours.

The empty boxes are staring back at me.

I can't bring myself to fill them.

I'm scanning the apartment that used to be ours..

I'm seeing our history repeating itself.

I somehow see your shadow from the kitchen,
and mine from the living room.

I hear your laughter when you mess up cooking..

And suddenly you're everywhere, and I'm paralyzed.

I can't move you into boxes, and I can't leave you.

Yet I need to leave you within this walls..