It’s like a growth that you know is there
but you refuse to seek medical treatment
You just avoid touching it
trying to convince yourself that
you’re okay
You’re not dying

It’s a scent that will linger on
like skunk on a dog
No matter your special remedies
the smell isn’t going to go
Until it goes on it’s own

But I’m convinced
This feeling isn’t killing me
or straining my senses

I’m okay
I’m not dying

I am the game

that’s hard to appreciate outside of elementary,
or foreign language class in high school

I want to be your bingo

The excitement you get over luck
The small but sweet surprise prize
and the twinkle in those eyes,
all over a few (phone) numbers
and (love) letters

I am the game

that is often neglected
until one realizes adding monetary value
makes everything worth risking
but the truth is Honey
I won’t always pay out

My brain is a soft serve swirl of
no's and please don't go's and
I love you so's
and
I can't really get in there
to stop it from dripping
down into my chest cavity
and making a sticky home
with my breaking heart

You are the vapor
that escapes my lungs
and the clashing
of two confused tongues

You and I
went through
phases

nutella and
new music and
Children's television and
taco bell and
movie going and
the lottery

We never won
a **** thing

Then there was
sleeping in and
not sleeping at all and
neuro something-or-other and
youtube

My head on your lap
Your hands on my head
Your eyes on the screen

Lastly
there was
5 guys
but

how many did it take
to sever me
from you?

just
one

How could a still evening
spin this cloud of smoke
so brilliantly in front of
such a dark night
illuminated only by
artificial light
and
how could it be witnessed
with no thick frames
accompanied by lenses
enabling that flashing image
seemingly waving
from the end of the pavement
to be understood

How can the information
being inferred
from a pixelated screen
be processed

She is just curious
Her

How can that
be processed

My stomach grumbles, as do I
saying "I'm done, throw this away."
Shoveling a picked apart parcel of pulp,
placed pleasantly in front of me paces previously,
back into the bakers basket

All I could do was try to taste this treat,
as it constantly tantalizes my taste buds
I reach a treaty with Me each day
again I say
"I'm done, throw this away"

Then again, it will probably always whisper
from the waste basket
so maybe
it's okay for me to love just the voice?

So
Maybe
it's okay for me to love
just the crumbs?

Maybe
it's okay.

No, no no
It's okay
"I'm done
Throw this away"

There is a kink in my back in need of a crack
and somewhere a question with an answer I lack
Life's water flows through me but I've lost the cap
So my brain leaks it's juices and forgets to synapse

There is a picture perfect being lingering sometimes
but the string has been cut to disable the blinds
All seen through the window is through scratched glass
I lift up my light source to prove you exist
Love, I have burnt all the wax

There is a light behind your baby blues turned on when I'm up close
and from far away those secret windows seem boarded and closed
If I threw the rocks I wield at them they would crack
expose all the complete products I lack
place me again on a downward track
sicken me

I'll no longer be your after school snack
I'll only be rotten and stuck in tupperware
watching you from the fogged up plastic
my own rotting wheat sending shivers down your spine
far unlike the way you send them down mine

I walk up the stairs in a rather unorthodox way
preferring my step pattern to never stay the same
since for years I dabbled in forever and
always pays
always laughs
always makes the first move
Now,
always late, always last, or at least never first
an unquenchable thirst for connections and friends
and un-sad yet unhappy terms coming to ends
with immune systems weak, we're crumbling in the end
but it's only me bleeding out my ends from a poor ulcered tract
For years they've begged me to put on a smile
and I still find it a struggle to stay in tact

The decision has been made
after digging an early grave
perhaps the feelings will fade
and affections will halt, as I'm no longer brave

It was the alcohol that spoke
puff after puff of smoke
All the words that it had uttered
let your hand, my head, stroke
and oh how I said no
Oh, how I fought it
Respect is something I've tried to learn
it's a lesson though
Who taught it?
Not me
nor will I ever.
be yours?

Baseball game is on
They’re playing the field
Mind is already numb
Lungs suggest I yield
Fortunes give advice
I was never seeking
Picture perfect play
Cigarette smoke leaking
Slowly I am sighing
‘It’s okay,’ she says
Smirking while I’m lying
‘I suppose it will be’
Muster up some courage
Make a desperate call
‘You are not desperate…
just in despair that’s all’
Light another ***
Puff it to the filter
Encourage her to drink
‘I wish you could live here’
Wise beyond my years
Insight She’s never seen
Encourage me to think
Against the rail I lean
‘I see into your head’
I’m blushing, babe
I’m red
I take my turn into tears
She wipes them with her own
‘It’s funny how deeply into
others lives we find ourselves sewn’
I agree and light another
Take another sip
‘If you’re hurting already
don’t do anything to
harm yourself more,’ but
Here we sit
Here we sip
Here we choke back tears
Here we spit
Here we come
To the bed
Bodies numb
Too many words said
Sheets spread
Drool on your pillow case
He said ‘I’m so sorry’
She said
‘It’s a little late.’

I said ‘get the **** over it’
and was almost thrown under again
I lost my footing
It was blunder again
I began to wonder again
What in the world is being strong
What is being individual
when we’re all humming the same ******* song
writing the same ******* tune
We all want to make love to a woman in our rooms
with a nice tongue and good *****
for one night
and then scram
Replace the ‘b’ with a ‘k’ so we can read each others’
and stay with me another night
and then maybe another
I’m not wrong to say I want this bad
I’m not wrong to say I need it
and if it is my blood you want
It’s not wrong to say I’ll bleed it

A smoker
in the winter
depends on that feeling
flowing through
their tar caked lungs
and even though their bodies
quiver
like the baby deer
hunters
leave
alone
to remember only the scent
of their mother’s
blood
they remain in the great
outdoors
and they remain
dependent

An alcoholic
in the winter
depends on the warmth
of the barstool  and
the sting of the thing
that twists and contorts
reality
so maybe they can
breathe easier
and pretend
they have not murdered
with their words
they have not pounded their
fists into the wall
they did not
fire
that
bullet
that killed whatever it is
they are drinking
to forget

At least the latter
can feed
indoors

Every one in this house
is always sleeping soundly
at this hour
but me

I shovel drugs and drinks
inside my now dry mouth
and they poke at my brain
who says
“spit it all out”

I close my eyes and mimic
the dark and the quiet
at this hour
but I

Can suddenly hear a party
that exists five cities over
and the people
they’re real
but they sound
like a radio
and I open my eyes
and the party is over
and the static is gone

Then I start to hum a song
to soothe my mind with
a familiar sound
something real
controllable

Everyone in this house
is always sleeping soundly
at this hour
but me

By now I’m out
of drugs and drinks
and I’m left with
thoughts and thinks
and I hear footsteps

On top of the highest mountain I have ever been
and I shouldn't stop
but the talk of the top
and the talk of it higher
and growing
producing more magma
expiring more gas-
it's frightening-
fighting to stay where I am
but if I let this grow
I'll be happy with the potential to fall
to be burned
to be solidified
among solid black rock
To be igneous.

They set me free awhile ago
I missed a few seasons
But im glad I missed the snow
I missed you too, baby
And our darling babies
Oh honey, it’s good to be home

As soon as I settle in
My life seems better
Until you walk out the door
My white coat matches
Your colleagues clothing
Which matches the shade of our door

And youre gone, youre gone
And you think its okay
You’re gone youre gone
And you think I’m okay
You’re gone you’re gone
Please come back from space

My self worth falls down the drain
And the tears fall out of my eyes
And the kids fall down at the playground
And the sane thoughts fall out of my mind
And my love pulls them back in a moment
But I know for sure that they’ll leave
Oh my self worth falls down the drain
And its something I’ll never retrieve

Oh, my children I love you
More than my clouded eyes can see
But theres a difference between loving and deserving
And I deserve misery
God tells me what I must be
And I deserve misery

The water runs out of the faucet
Filling our little bathtub
The newspapers will say that ive lost it
But I know what needs to be done
Twelve feet line up outside the door
Children its time for a bath

I can only imagine
you sobbing into your pillow at
each
and
every
moment
that your brain receives a free second to wander
and we all know how
haunting
that freedom is

A dog destined for the semi-truck
without a home
without a path
without the distractions you try your hardest to
place
ever
so
gently

You would never believe how sorry I am
You would
never
believe how sorry I am
and you would never be okay with a
‘I was in your position’
or with an
‘It all gets better’

I can only tell you that it does not just get better
Actively
try
to save yourself
before you let my
selfish
action
consume your beauty
If you want something, take it

I took it
I am sorry

Find yours again

What are you accomplishing Tessa?
Nothing, everyone
They say
what are you going to do?
I am going to write I say
Are you any good?
No I am the lousiest
I will go nowhere
You should try to do something
that will help you
progress
in the world
No I say
I am content I say
I am done pleasing you
I am not proud of you
they say
I sigh
Exhale another piece of gunk
from my lung
but I can finally breathe
I say
That is all that matters

More often than not
beating hearts find themselves
constricted
A forked tongue picks up
the scent of blood
and squeezes
until perhaps it receives
exactly what it wants
exactly what you think it needs

More often than not
beating hearts find themselves
scared
Though it hurts a little bit
it is comforting

and if the familiar slithers away
what would it receive
what would it feel but emptiness?

Normality.

The Driver was ignorant to my presence
as I was ignorant to the oncoming headlights

The vehicle slightly brushed me
but at fifty miles an hour it was just enough
to knock my confident self on my hide

They swerved and slowed
with no intention of actually stopping
and I lay there helpless for a long while

The Vultures swooped in next to my corpse
picking at my injuries intricately
ingesting the rotting flesh

The Soul I once possessed began to float away
and to my surprise the vicious birds followed,
pecking at the being stealing my own

My consciousness hit me like a late release pain killer
and I regretted my zombie-like life I lead
prior to my winged saviors arrival

My hooves, all four, hit the ground within milliseconds
of one another and I realize one thing
I am alive, I am free to graze, I will survive.

A ***** with naturally created dampness
causes me to lose my stride
and mess my moccasins.

How will this muddy mess be conquered
by my not so balanced state-
shaky even as I stand and ponder.

A friend is already on the other side,
as use was made of two delicately placed logs
but my trust for them is nonexistent.

I choose another log to complete the path,
heavier than I had imagined,
and I place it not so delicately in between the others.

Medium sized rocks penetrate the soles of my shoes,
and tease the nerves in my feet constantly.
They never pierce me fully and I am thankful.

My brain is set on numerous trains,
and the tracks, and railroad spikes.
I was warned but I was more than disappointed.

There was truly nothing there but garbage,
splinters of wood and scrap cloth
caked with mud and gravel.

There is some beauty in this trip.
The nostalgia I craved was nowhere in sight,
but that was not such a bad thing after a moment.

Sprinkled along the rocky path
little areas of beauty stood out through the vacancy.
There were daisies everywhere.

A man in a suit walked into the bank, and a man with a mask was soon to follow.
He was shoving his way to the front of the line, but the man in the suit stopped him.
“A moment of your time sir, that is all I want”, he exclaimed.
The masked man pulled out his gun.
“What the **** is it?”
“Well, you see sir, I am just dying to know why we are alive. I have my hunches, but I need some proof.”
The mask man simply turned around and went on with his business.
Hardly satisfactory for the man in the suit, he grabbed his shoulder and made the mask face him once more.
“Why are we alive!?”
And with that, the masked man had been patient enough.
Click
Click,..
Boom.
Goodbye.
With his final breath, the man in the suit said,
“To die, eh? To die.”

Sweat dripping from
Your mask,
I notice that you
don’t notice
me.

Pride dripping from
Your grin,
I notice a need
or a want.
People.

Trophies absent from
My case.
I notice a ribbon
of participation.
Mine.

Confidence absent from
Me.
I notice a hole
but I tried
alright?

Red because you
said it like
that.

The color you
like but not
this
way.

My mind fights
until it bleeds
red.

I need help
and you don’t
under-
stand.

Happy birthday!
I gave you
me
gone.
I spent your money.

Happy birthday!
I gave you
my
lies.
I stole your tears.

Happy death day!
I took myself
a-
way.
You can breathe now.

Just eyes.
When I close them,
that is all I am.
Just eyes.
Eyes with a pulse…
an inconsistent pulse…
one that I fear may quit.
Throw in the towel.
Just eyes.
Eyes that aren’t ready for death.

The burning hot sun sends a steady flash of light
to the treetops.
It has just risen and, already, it is spewing brilliance
of this magnitude.
Do not misunderstand this;
it is a truly suburb sight.
Though my eyes take in the light,
I see nothing.

The burning hot sun sends a steady flash of light
through her window.
The light gently wakes her up,
and she rolls over, sighing.
“You look absolutely beautiful this morning.”
She rolls over for a second time,
this time to avoid my admiration.
Understand this;
she is the most suburb sight.
My eyes take in her light,
and I can see.

A vast forest speaks to me.
Pulchritudinous trees, shrubs, and flowers.
Even the weeds are beautiful,
beautifully entertaining.
The largest tree of them all is fearful.

What has it to fear?
It can see from city to city for miles.
It hears the sounds of the earth clearly.
It can even see itself in a mirror of waves,
and in turn can be certain of it’s existence.
Regardless, it is fearful.
In retrospect, people have tried to cut it.
Not only it’s branches, or it’s leaves.
Everything belonging to the largest tree was in peril.
Even it’s thick trunk was at risk.
There is one that wants it to remain rooted.

But, the largest tree is still fearful.
It does not want that one person to expand.
It does not want the human to want other trees to be rooted,
or to assist those others in remaining so.

The tallest tree pleads:
“Don’t chop me down, please.
Oh don’t let them lean towards you,
For they WILL lean towards the sun, and you are my only sun!
It’s inevitable. One day, oh one day, I won’t be enough shade for you.
You’ll sit under the others and read your books, write your words,
whatever you do. Even if you do leave me, human, don’t chop me down.
I’ll do that myself.”

“I could never…”

The human was confused.
The tree was clearly superior to all others.
So, the human climbed.
Climbed and climbed to the very top of that tree.
From the peak, it all made sense.
Down in the shimmering water was a distorted image.
The largest tree had been looking at itself as if it were the smallest.

“I wish you could see what I see.”

The headlines
and the words
inside…

they ring
inside
me.

“You are great,”
they said
once.

“You were great,”
he said
once.

A pat on
my back
ends

everything.

A pat on
my back
ends

ten years work.
Now it
starts.

It starts again
and I
care?

No I want
to go
back.

“You are great,”
rings again.


Great.

Sitting in the waiting room
I see the people kneel.
From their knees they pray
for sins they have concealed.
Their brothers and sisters,
and mothers and fathers,
and daughters and sons,
grandsons and grandaughters,
grandparents too
and they look with their
puppy dog eyes
right at you.

Sitting in the waiting room
I see the people squeam
when bad news bursts from
doctors mouths. “This is only
a dream,” they say,
Vocalizing how their hearts
have burst and will
keep
sinking
and
sinking
and
sinking
until
the
day
they
die.

Sitting in the waiting room
I realize that I do not care.
For the dozens of people
in here, or the patients in there.
For the brothers and sisters,
and mothers and fathers,
and daughters and sons,
grandsons and grandaughters,
grandparents either.
I can’t help but be here,
only for you.
Only
for
you
and
me.

Nothing can be heard but
a high pitched
squealing
and a screaming
brain.
Hunger strikes and
the acids fists jab
over and over.
It is freezing here
but you can feel fire
everywhere.
Double check your
stomach once in a
while to make
sure you are
breathing.
No one can hear it;
not even you.
It is almost like
you
aren’t
there.

A blanket of exuberance
has been unexpectedly
ripped out
of my eye sockets

Through the initial bleeding
only blurs are visualized,
but time moves
and I can see

Everything around is ugly
and dark and smelly.
Bullshitters cannot even
bother to whisper-

so I hear their
inflated words and gossip
and lies. They look
okay-

but it’s not that.
They are disgusting
and ugly
and evil.

Though direct confrontation
between them and I
never occurs
their talons scar my presence.

They throw a different
blanket into me, covering
my perceptions and
numbing me

They bring me down
until I can feel
the worms under my skin-
until I’m just as ugly.

One of the first days of spring

contains snowflakes

darting downward

leaving streaks

through the charcoal sky

much like fireworks

on that fourth of july

I spent perched on

a strangers vehicle

with strangers by my side

with companion on my mind



and as they fall

I almost cry but stop-

The momentum of tears

can be altered

but those white streaks

get going and just

cant stop going

and I cannot go

like that-

I smile instead

I let these streaks

live inside my head

since everything deserves

to be remembered