they called me crazy
for refusing to pick flowers
for saving spiders from the kitchen
and for talking to birds rather than humans

they called me crazy
for clawing at my wrists
for eating my own words
and for tearing out my hair for allowing myself to feel

nothing ever satisfies
when you worry about the endless amount
of "they"
and "them"
and what "they" think

nothing ever satisfies
when "they" meet your demons
and "they" make a home
in your own ******* ribs

Stapled conscious to the floor again
and wrestled with warped wood panels
on paint stained cement.
Briefly for a moment, a paused paradise
emerged just beside the swinging rope light -
cobwebs.
In the basement their thin beams are darkened -
ageless art and ancient evolution converging in ****** of creation.
Sit still my friend and watch the leg ballet.

Fat and swollen like a pearl;
translucent, and engorged on
blood, you hung there in
my curtains until I pulled them
down. You hit with such force,
like a rock tumbling down a
black mountain, or a comet
falling out of a web of stars!
You looked like varicose veins
throbbing on the surface of an
egg loosely wrapped in molded
tissue paper, or cloth-hairs stuck
to a family heirloom. So I
left you there until you
collapsed in yourself like a
dying star, or the soft spot of
a newborn’s head frosted over
by gossamer silk that dug
its pale-white hands
in the wood-rot.

Home that isn't
Is full of spiders
What do they eat
I'll sweep them up
Until it's lovely
Again

Spiders in my basket
spiders in my soup
spider on my eider down
spiders loop the loop

Spiders on the ceiling
now crawling down the wall
there's a spider on my pillow
someone hear my call

Spiders changing faces
never far from ear
scrip and scrat the little feet
tell me spiders are too near

I sleep with my mouth open

Come to me when the night is deep,
when the darkness surrounds you,
when the spiders creep.
Spin a web with fingers sleek
and catch your prey when the world
around sleeps.
Haunted secrets we keep
when the air is not breathable
and all around the sound seems
unkeepable,
when love is weak,
tangled,
despicable...
Know I hold you,
unfold you
in a world that's predictable;
I'll lift you, unshift you
when the night feels so crippled,
uncage you, reclaim you
when your world falls unfixable.
Tonight under moonlight
when the wolves hunt alone,
we'll tune out the drone
with love's resounding home--
We'll delight in the known,
knowing we're never alone
and howl at the moonlight
too soon midnight gone.

the roses on her grave are dead,
so am i
the ground is frozen solid,
can you hear the deer wander
reincarnation
can you hear the flutter of the butterfly wings?
abandoned tea cup in the shed
now a spiders home
i'm alone