I rather sticks and stones
words mean too much to me
a poet embracing ugliness
to be called it once
is a sword in the stomach
to be called it twice
a thousand arrows in the heart
to lose a friend
dreadful is this agony
to be blind
yet to see inside
misery

There are many sleepless nights for me..
Nights spent pondering what Linux distro to install next..
Nights spent wondering if my parents are gonna find out again.
Nights spent wondering... "Will my boyfriend break up with me"..
But then my alters tell me.. "Go to sleep Elizabeth. Quit worrying."
But I never seem to listen...
And the cycle goes on and on..

Thirsty, I have no **** or hoof
a small tree over a shimmering spring
the oasis
I succulently devour the water
every drop
a sensual desire for life
it quenches my body and soul
the water is your voice
softly falling on my ears
like a waterfall
cascading vibrations over the sadness
you never have to worry
you see?
I will always need water
only the camel will die
you are the pearl
that will live forever
in my memory

Rest did not come find me last night
Instead I laid wide awake staring at the ceiling

Now exhaustion sits on my shoulder
Smirking and taunting me

So I pop a coffee sweet
Bitter alertness rolls over my tongue

But exhaustion returns, a sly fox
Dragging my eyelids down, stealing my strength

So I take another sweet
This one just as bitter as the last

The day crawls by and once again,
The wold is getting fuzzy…

Another one swallowed
And soon, I’ll need to buy a new supply

You wanted me to stay
I ran.  I pushed away.
(That’s how you’ll remember.)
To shift the blame
And ease the pain
That’s all you’re gonna say?  

I chose me
but you chose you.
The us of us no longer grew.
Threw years away
waiting for you.
(That’s how I’ll remember.)

You were afraid.
I held on too tight.
And knew too late.
How short my sight!
I am not your person.  

3 am! A restless groan,
Lays brick by brick
Surrounds heart of stone
I think I choose to be alone.
I’ll never love again…
Not ever.

Not part of your heart,
I’m not your muse.
Just things you said.
Just words you used.

And years from now
Dreams not well played out
No one will remember.

A dampness spreads across the duvet - plop,
the rhythm ticks away in sleepless drops
of time, until my clock bell rings out loud.
Then groping, reaching, fumbling, I find stop.

Surrounded by my polyester cloud,
its cozy white insomniac soft shroud
turns starkly freezing, waiting for the light.
Another rocky field waits to be ploughed.

Against the bed’s warm gravity, I fight
to rise and face the early, bright sunlight;
still sleepy, battle to the bedroom door
and end my long and wakeful, antsy night.

In stretching daylight hours, I fight a war
to keep the grey at bay, using my store
of energy to keep me swimming, or
exhausted drown in waking sleep once more.