I’ve dreamed I was falling asleep
And shaking myself to keep awake.
There’s only so much weirdness
And crap a poor dreamer can take.
It was all involved with friends you see
That I don’t see now, because they
Were stranger than my dreams
Or maybe I was. Back in the day.

I would be partying with them
And walking remembered streets
But I’d look around and everybody
Found other people to go meet.
Then suddenly the Hollywood
I knew and loved for twenty years
Became Kansas City boulevards
And Hollywood totally disappears.

Or maybe I’m coming home
At the end of a tiring long day
And look around, find myself
Saying, no way. No effing way;
This is not my apartment!
It’s fine, I kind of like the place
But someone is pulling a joke
The housekeeping is a disgrace.

Then someone would come in
Who I was supposed to know
And this chick is my roommate?
Oh, no. This woman has got to go.
But before I can get my head
Wrapped around standing up
My family is there too, cooking
Handing me a steaming hot cup.

Well,, now I can’t offend them
So, I sit my *** back down.
I don’t want to seem ungrateful
Like some unfunny kind of clown.
******, I leave to go for a walk
Thinking I am in Tucson but then
This is the Country Club Plaza
And I’m back in Kansas City again.

One time I was building something,
Under an expensive sort of contract
But none of the sub-contractors
Or the assistants knew how to act.
They were putting the thing together
Like a Rube Goldberg machine.
I was going ballistic on them all;
The ugliest thing I had ever seen.

These are the dreamworlds for me
On a regular, but often bizarre basis.
Streets change while walking
And people I know change their faces.
Or I am tasked to do something
Involving technology or looming mass
I end up getting no help at all
And wind up falling right on my ***.

There once was a strange land
Long long ago
If was made by a girl
A child full of woe

Winds always howl
And the sky is always green
Grass is never cut
And the stars are always seen

She made this world
A home in her mind
But the only beings there
Are the forgotten kind

The dreams of a little girl
Who loathed the real world
Her parents were never there
So she made beings who were always fair

She played with these folk
In the meadows of her mind
She made these people just
She made them so kind

But then she got older
And saw the hate of the world
The beings in her mind
Mirrored this unfold

Their desires grew darker
Their motives were skewed
They criticized the girl
Only negatives they spewed

How she isnt pretty
How she was a mistake
They used to give love
But now they only take

The girl became calloused
From the voices in her mind
The voices that spread hate
That used to be so kind

I am the girl
The girl of strange kind
The voices are in my head
They are many, you will find

I miss that world
Of green sky and strong wind
The world of my making
A world without sin

But I know this is a lie
For sin is everywhere
In the mind of a child
In the words of a prayer

So I pray now
God bring me back there
To the word of green sky
To where everything was fair

I walk into a hospital and the hospital is a graveyard. A doctor stands with his back to me, performing a ballet autopsy on a bluish barbarian. A single salty droplet falls from the  bluish barbarian's head and there is a tremor in his hand. "He is alive" I whisper. "Stop doctor, stop," I say but the doctor doesn't listen. I keep shouting louder and louder until I am making a huge racket. A skeleton nurse shushes me. I scream and the doctor jerks, his graceful movements broken. He turns to me and his glacial eyes take over my mind, stripping away my layers until I am barren, exposed. He speaks but his voice is a wolf's voice. A wolf's voice isn't like a human voice, it is *******, harsh. "Look what you've done" he growls. "Now it's impure. It's weak." I watch as the bluish barbarian becomes dozens of tiny screaming beetles. Then he is dust and the graveyard is an urban labyrinth. "You stupid thing," says the doctor but the doctor is now an ant. I laugh and walk into the labyrinth but the doctor-ant follows me. "Shut up" I say and I laugh and I cough and I walk into the phlebotomy lab and break my skull on a glove. "I told you" says the ant and it walks away and I cry.

I have been told by so many that I explain myself so well
That my sense of understanding is so great that they are proud to tell me
It is good that I can understand so well
But what does this do of good for me
If I can't ever understand what others want of me
I always misjudge the situations
And think that something is going good when really I am just stepping on landmines
Pretending the flying limbs are flowers floating in the air
How can I not see that If I am so good with understanding?
I am beginning to doubt if I am ever going to be happy
Because all the happiness I ever had was created illusions in my head
like a puppet on a string I forced myself to dance joyfully throughout a life; that I did not even enjoy
A big smile on my face after everytime I cry
A big laugh though my soul mourns with the sounds of trees breaking in the wind
A hollow feeling of always walking on a path which carries old imprinted footprints from people whom walked here before me
But instead of creating my own I step in theirs; To ignore the fact that my footprints are taking this journey alone when others have been accompanied on theirs

I’ve lost myself.
I no longer know who I am
and I’ve looked at all those poems I had to write in English
you know the ones
the acrostic poems where teacher makes you use your name as the word
and the lines off the letters are supposed to describe you.
Yet I don’t see myself as that person anymore.
I sign my name as Paige Swanson
it’s the name on my birth certificate the one my mother decided on.
Paige is the name I respond to
Swanson is the name I sometimes despise.
Thats changed over time though,
because when I was younger I liked my last name and despised my middle.
I’ve reached high school and the only thing unique about me
about my entire name is the middle one.
Bobette.
It’s the name that people don’t expect and don’t believe
at least not the first time I say and spell it.
Bobette.
The name I decided to use to find words that people think describe me.
I don’t know who I am so I’m trying to find out through my friends.
Through my middle name.
B - Beautiful…or so my best friend and boyfriend say.
Beautiful not just face and body but soul and mind.
Beautiful words in writing
and paintings on canvas.
O - Observant… I notice and remember the little things
the chain on someones necklace being messed up
when someones makeup is smudged.
Other peoples feelings
more so than my own.
B - Bereaved as I’m still missing my grandmother
my pets
my old friends
and when I used to know who I am.
E - Electrifying for my personality
for my looks
and attitude
or maybe just because I have a tendency to shock people.
T - Ticklish not that you get to know where
and as my boyfriend has learned in the past 2 months
tickling me can lead to 1 of 2 things.
Either an extreme act of violence or kissing. (at least when it comes to him)
T - Tender even though I may not always seem like it
as I’m the friend and girlfriend that playfully hits you
but as soon as you’re actually hurt or upset
I’m there to try and help take the pain away.
E - Entrancing as I apparently distract people
or did they say enthralling as I keep peoples attention
no I think it was Enchanting as like a fairytale my personality keeps people watching
wait…those words all mean the same thing…never mind.
Bobette.
The only unique part of my name…of me
and I’ve used it to find who I am
but all I’ve done is find words that people think describe me.
Not who I am
and I think I’m more confused now than I was to begin with
So I have a question…
Can someone tell me who I am?
Cause I have no idea anymore.

I've always had those moments
when I seem braindead
but really I'm just overthinking
a passed or impending situation

Making two-star dramas and slasher films
I'm the silent victim
that should've saw it coming
in my soothsayer premonitions

Wish I could drop a bag of bones
and let them come up with
the mood I should be in

These small woodland animal spirits
prancing around my world
tell me what's life's deal
and sometimes make me fearful
when I'm in a badly lit room alone


It's not the dark that gnashes
but that which most wants the light


As if, life is about burning your hands
on many light bulbs, 'till some source
slurps up your essence and you're stuck
finding the portal to the next level
fighting and collecting dragons on the way
fighting and collecting dragons on the way

Animals in Antarctica
All drinking liquor
Ice on the flow of water
Some snow there as well
Zounds of baby walrus shrimp
The have big beards, they are so weird
The baby walrus shrimp!


William James

I trace your veins
with my finger
pretending I am learning
your body like a map
and your veins
are strange roads
I've never been to.
Feeling lost
is an uncomfortable situation
yet looking into your eyes
is when I feel the most comfortable.