𝐵𝓊𝒹𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓂𝒶𝓎,
𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓇'𝓈 𝒹𝒶𝓎
I feel best in my strawberry dress
It's stupid, really
all glee and smile
gee, I acted like a child
It's stupid, really
I thought of nothing
but of my love for you
Godd-mn,
𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦,
𝘪𝘧 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘭?

And if it weren't for those times
where impediment
was all I can speak of,  
𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚏𝚎, 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚍,
𝚠𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎
𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛
synthesizing
my weathered hyacinth
into a 𝕘𝕠𝕝𝕕𝕖𝕟 𝕕𝕒𝕗𝕗𝕠𝕕𝕚𝕝
resided by the lake
of your
evergreen field

Be it 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕙, 𝘍𝘪𝘵𝘻𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘭𝘥,
𝒮𝒽𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒, or 𝚁𝚞𝚖𝚒
No sonnets on earth
is as beautiful
is as grandeur
as God-made poetry;
You.

Half asleep feet shuffle in aimlessly;
Water fills the celestial coffeepot.
Chocolate brown grounds by a spoon are allot.
A spoonful spills to the floor! This marks its tragedy.
Another, another, so painfully,
This tragedy would make any distraught.
How can sleep be torn from eyes so bloodshot
Without the black elixir so holy?

The sleepy feet walk through the garage door,
Each brooms' handle is long like cold harpoons.
It sweeps up the wasted dreams on the floor.
"I measured out my life in coffee spoons."1
The tedious toil begins once more,
And so go the morning coffee mistunes.


1 - From "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" by T.S. Eliot

the scent of woman broke about me as
I entered slow the small shared dorm,
his mattress lay stripped bare and I did form
the reason he had asked that I delay.
his anxious questions sought to fill silence,
an empty space that she had left behind.
In truth I would not say I was unkind,
but how I tried to torture roommate mine.
I was not bothered he had used our space,
I too in past had indulged love's embrace;
but this only happens once in a while
and how his discomfort could make me smile.

Hopes of a future never to come pass.
Cutting of thread leaving a trail of red.
Comforting lies, take on vengeance’s plasse.
Callow certainty leading my bloodshed.

Essence refusing change, oil and water.
Dripping maroon, satisfies my sweet tooth.
Lost track of my goal, now it's a slaughter.
Enciphered desire, immiscible youth.

As I let go sorrow’s waters -- forlorn,
See me with your purest eyes, unerring
Touch of a mother’s hand, I am reborn.
Sins, a raven’s coat, heavens are glaring.

And as I lay my vision ridden red,
How foolish to lead to one’s own bloodshed.

I feel my old burns heal over again
The restlessness of withdrawals still here
Just one more cut to quiet thoughts within
Just one more burn to calm the constant fear
Just one more viewing to feel less alone
Though I have endless private tabs lined up
Just one more drink while I scroll through my phone
A new shopping spree to feel like enough
But my demons will never go away
I cut, drink, and ******* to drown it out
Who cares if I lose touch, I love the pain
I've already far outlived my planned day
My plans keep shattering, I've no set route
But I can't have you see me like that again

the needling breath
of forested speech, an echo
of the way we bend

the drive to appease
the mouth of serenity
revives the scant scent

to take inward
in drams of swallowed tithing
spiraled blood writhing

spread of skeletal
rise, of ancient hymns of birth
rooted vibration

the WHO in the hollow drowns
the wonder of the stretched ear

It ****** to life in Spring the dry dark Earth
Which points to sun and sends off the Holly King
Like a spark ignites the soot encrusted hearth
The celebrating children dance in rings
The Earth is in us too and deeply carved
In dark and light we are cleaved and tied in knots
And travelling inwards are we standing fast?
Or do we weep at demons we forgot?

What if you take that shadow to the light?
A kernel lifted from the pricked dark Earth
Who’s beading blood in rising runnels might
Rise up in us, to show us all we are worth

The Earth is in us; the light the dark the seasons
To hold our shadow to the light is freedom