He laid the weight on her
Words heavier than hell
She carried them all
On her head in her heart
For once she truly lived
Only where she belonged
In his frayed arms
In his gray mind

I was jealous of
jade green oceans,
and the way they dance
when the sunlight hits
them just right.
Or, how I've ached
to wear a shade unbroken,
like the clear blue morning
with its cloudless skies.
I've even dreamed of dressing
in that cold steel gray,
that makes you want to stay
on those lonely rainy nights.
But, I've come to embrace
my amber sands,
that pull you in like the warmth
of the sun at noontime.
Only can my brown eyes
blossom and burst,
like the earth,
so tender and soft
after the storms subside.

Of all the things I am
I am not insane.

The reservoir is rising
And I'm sweating in my
Dress and white sneakers
And the sky is turning gray.

At least there are breezes
By the lake, although
I had a breakdown in the car
When Henry wasn't real.

Lele left me for Larry
And I'm struggling to write
Your prose as my own
Poem thoughts.

If it rains on the
Water I will never
Forgive the person who built
The glass cafe.

All the plastic communion cups in my purse
Cracked.

Prop my feet up on the dash
Make another societal
Faux pas and take one last sip of
Chandelier staircase filmstrips.

This kayak of mine
Has tipped.

Gold glitter
Only stays on the ceiling
When the upholstery is gray.

Church gyms are suddenly
Piggy banks to play
Basketball upon.

I will draw a city on
The bulletin board
And owl pushpins will inhabit it.

My mind is no longer in a
Casing of gray rick-rack
And suppositions I do not feel.

It is a precarious thing to
Play a solar piano
Under the midday sky.

Have you ever heard
A pumpkin-flavored
Volkswagen van?

It happened suddenly
That everything I could possibly
See became a photography contest.

The more I deny my feelings for you
The more I sink deeper into.
....
...
..

Overcast
Blended sea with the sky
She wondered why her tears reminded her of the ocean.
How they would flow in waves
High tide is at night
That's when the demons come out to surf
Through her head
Through the waves
Water
Salt
Empty
Stepping into the water she blended in.
Her mind couldn't tell the difference
She was the same
That's all she ever was
Gray
Mist
Clouds
The black storm clouds drift in through her ears and settle in her mind
Rain falls down her cheeks
She is sick of trying
Trying to be blue in a world that is so gray.

i have tombstones growing in my chest.

her breath colors the winter air gray
not the ugly kind of gray that winter snow ages into
and not the kind that's pretty either.
it's the kind of gray that's too fragile for time to sustain
it's the kind of fragile too light for scales to hold
it's the kind of light that wants to be lighter, that wants to be weightless
it's the kind of weightless that only knows bony arms and hollow cheeks
and it's the kind of bony, the kind of hollow, that turns ribs into cages
and cages into prisons for hearts that want to be—
not ugly, not pretty, not fragile, not light, not lighter, not weightless,
and not even bony or hollow—
but just
*be.