I sit in a forest, with my back against a large oak,
and listen. Among rustling leaves and
whining cicadas I hear something else.
Something larger.

It's moving through the forest on jointed legs,
snapping the branches of century old trees.
An insect the size of a castle. It lets out a cry.
Sounds like a thousand year old whale's
death rattle. The cicadas stop whining and I
shudder.

It's heading to the lake to breed,
or to die. Their kind begins and ends in water.
Very morbid creatures, they are.

I can feel its steps shake the earth as it comes
closer and then I see it. Ten long, jointed legs
support the bulk of the thing. It towers over me,
silver. Its shell is a knight's armour and its red
eyes are the devil's. I stand up in awe of the
colossal bug as it lumbers past me, blocking the sun
and casting me in shadow for a while.

I light a cigarette and listen to it move through the forest.
Eventually, I can't hear it anymore and the cicadas
start to whine again.

The walls change from blue to green
And fade away with the morning sun
Every night they return
And so does she
The one who ruined it all
The creeping woman from the yellow wallpaper
She loves to bathe in salty water
Puddles of tears and sobbing oceans
These walls remind me of a time when the morning sun distant
Like my memories of you

My eyelids shutter-click
your face in frames per
second:    your lips quiver
as you stare at me.

Did I mention that I am ****?

The clock you bought
from the gypsies scratches
at the bedroom air.

When you kiss
me and I kiss back,
I am not here--

my skin is, my heat,

I've left everything
here in this moment
for you--
            even my pulse
I once held so tight,
            like the lake clings
            to the moon.

you are the reason I'm okay with
this god forsaken state.
if I left, I would leave you behind.
I cursed this town before your name was a part of my world.
you make it okay to stay.
you are my Chicago.
some love the skyscrapers
and the sunsets on the beach
or the streets that curve and illuminate the whole town.
that is their chicago.
but you are mine.
your eyes and smile are the skyscrapers in my heart
and your laugh is engulfing
like the lake.
you'll be my Chicago--
the one I will be homesick for because when I think of home,
I think of you.

up the hill I go
on and on
up and up
I can't see the top

but that's not important
the journey is everything

by the campfire
alone in the night
with starry blanket
draped around me

looking down upon  the lake
I'm looking into the dreams
and the sadness
and the feelings

in the cold I shiver
in sadness , emptiness
I shake
Hush ! Lay down , go to sleep

Diamond encrusted
sky over a moon lit lake
two lovers kissing

The **** on her heart
tore open, and spilled into the sea--
I had seen this and dove in.

Her heart was a fountain, and I looked to it
as a source of purity.

You see a fire burning over there
You see a good time
You hear their singing
And you here their laughter

Unfortunately, you're stuck
Between your own home
And the vast lake;
The one covered in ice

You run down to the shore
And put a foot on it
To see if the ice
Will hold you

Before seeing enough
You put both feet on
And start running across
When suddenly -

You hear a small crack
You know it's goodbye
You see them still singing a jovial tune
And you know you won't again

That night went by so fast, almost as if it never happened.
Yet it went so slow that every single word and thought and emotion was processed like the meat you buy from the supermarket.
Yet some things are still so unclear.
The adventuring must have meant nothing to you.
The hours we spent laying on the hammock were so bittersweet.
Sweet when you held me in your warm embrace,
and bitter when you got up and walked away.

I still hear the sound of your voice and think of earthquakes.
I remember the low rumble coming from my heart;
or was it my lungs?
Either way, there was a very unnatural disaster occurring somewhere within my chest that day and I can’t help but think of the bike rides in the woods.
The winding roads, the rocks and branches, the trips and falls, the scratches and cuts, and how you kissed every single one.
Your lips were like a dream and I remember how your eyes looked when you told me about your father.
I didn't think someone so magnificent was capable of feeling that much pain and loneliness and maybe now I understand why you couldn't stay.

But that doesn't explain why you left me there almost as if to say,
"I changed my mind. Loving you is impossible. It’s too much work, it’s too much pain."
But if that's true, then why is it my heart being shattered between your teeth?
All I wanted was a little more time.