it doesn’t exist
because it is
so locked away
so far away
from prying eyes

peeping toms
and nosy nancys
see only a wall;
they never realize...
i’m on the other side

i am safe
in the grey areas
outside of memory
so i, too
see only a wall

i keep myself
stuck, trapped
here,
between memory
and the now

i still feel it
but the memory
isn’t here
why did you tell me
not to forget

you smothered me
for crying
too loud

sitting
outside
i allow myself
a breath
through the pain

the wind
moving
alive and free
pitter patters
against my face

the sunlight
feels anew
but diluted;
thoughts
clouding beauty

i pull myself
open
asking for warmth
yet, cool breezes
push by

i ache
for a touch
of the sun;
so much,
i’d die for it

My chest becomes ice
It freezes slowly,
Over my ribs
Crawling past my shriveled, open lungs
It’s so cold here
I feel this and nothing else
I feel this, nothing else

but i am putting it down
until it hurts
and grips me vicariously
'til i'm twisted around-
i'm turned into a mug's handle

it's the same plastic feeling
i had before
i miss the solid glass,
and the strips of wood
i teased with my angel fingers

the mirror couldn't see me
today
i didn't let it.
how could i?
my eyes are too small, here

shaggy planet earth
was invaded in 1981
beginning with my first soul:
i was so young
i didn't know better

tossed out, i'm left to drink up
the abundance of this world.
swallowing more light and dark
than my small eyes can;
i turned to ethanol.

hemingway entered my life
in the fall of '09
i couldn't have been more in love.
maybe that's why
i'm pen in one hand, drink in the other.