I burn **** between my lips.
one by one.
******* them down with skill.
Skull to lungs,
ashes to ashes.
I am the smoke of myself that  
gathers deep inside
and prowls out, darkly
like faceless men at night
sunken in city pavement,  
pacing towards desire.
And so the word saunters and spirals,
clouding upwards
from my red hot tongue.
I watch it as it leaves me.
I lick my lips of the sting,
and ash drips on my shoe.
I take a deeper breath.
and look ahead.
perhaps smiling,
perhaps darkly.
As it twists itself into nothingness,
sinking headlong,  
like the private history that it is,
into the ignorant, pretty sky above.

Ever feel like the ceiling and floor are squeezing you in the in between space?
The past just wont let you rest...
The present seems empty with the missing pieces of the past.
Glimmers of happiness keep you on the edge...
Chains tugging,
Inner demons fighting,
Trying to resist and not succumb.

Staring
      Down
          Down
               Down
                    Down
Mixing
Swirling
Cutting

Making
     Pretty
          Pretty
               Pretty
                    Pretty

Designs
In
Food

You crave and yet resist those things; that take you from what's good, 'till something better takes another other and seems again anew
How often times the image thought supreme to it's ideal
Tryin to change one to form another "other" that seems again anew
Are you another one of my symbols?
Is this another one of my images?
Archetypes they tell me and I'm somewhere in between

I refuse to be imprisoned by them;
Formed in a spring of meaning
And specificity;
Then gradually
Sculpted, sanded and smoothed
In the oppressive surf of banality.

Woman. Wife. Mother.
Genius. Fat. Beautiful.
Liberal. Conservative.

I won’t let them
Bend me at the waist
Bow my head
Contort my arms

Define me.

Instead I return to the spring

plunge in

dissolve


emerge



a mist.

I can't stop myself from
taking this.
I know it's bad,
but I simply can't resist.
My hand
           s h  a k  e s
as I reach for more.
Should I be doing this?
I think as I count...
one, two, three, four.
It rushes over me,
like a wave in the sea.
It feels so good;
this deadly thing that I took.
Sure, plenty before me have died,
but to my parents I could lie.
It's not like they'd ever find out;
I think right before I blackout.
Would they ever come look for me
in this ally?
Or would I just die,
right here, right now,
lonely?
I faint before I can finish my thought.
I felt nothing; naught.
I lie in that ally
for what felt like years.
All until a someones appears.
I hear them talking,
it all sounds very faint.
They try to save me,
but it's just
too late.