if i could cuddle with the sky (i wouldn't feel as lonely).
and i'd sure feel better if the wind could hold me.
instead it surrounds me, impossible to locate
everywhere but nowhere, making me hollow

if only i could chat with the trees (i wouldn't feel as lonely),
they have a language of their own, i'm too small to know.
i'm given their beauty but not their company
while i sink into myself, they continue to grow

he got drunk and went to sleep
in his bed
and the fire started
and he layed in there
burning
until a friend in the next room
smelled it
and ran in
and tried to pull him out of the fire
by his arms
and the skin rolled right off the arms
and he had to grab again
deeper
near the bone,
and he got him out and up
and the guy started screaming
and running blind,
he hit some walls
finally made 2 doorways
and with half a dozen men trying
to hold him
he broke free
and ran into the yard
screaming
still running
he ran right into some barbed wire
and tangled in the barbed wire
screaming
and they had to go up
and get him loose
from the wire

he lived for 3 nights and 3
days

drinking and smoking
are bad for the
health.

we lay together naked
and i whispered to you,
“break my heart”
i needed something to write about
you only said to me
“darling, i already have”
and then you left
without another word

god is small and white;
yet sometimes yellow.
god is a capsule.
he shows me the light.

I found god in hands-
hands of a smiling man.
I love god, I hate him too.
he tells me what to say
what to do.

god takes me up high;
above the stars and night.
god drops me down low,
beneath the burning ice.

god will never leave me,
this I will always know.
I love god, I hate him too,
he tells me what to feel,
what to do.

I feel gods hands on me,
I feel fingers around my neck.
he leans in and says he loves me,
then he breaks me into dust.

god touches me, smooth, soft.
he asks me to let him in.
I love god, I hate him too.
he tells me what to think,
what to do.

god keeps me warm-
but his body is dead cold.
he smiles, and holds grace,
then spits and laughs in my face.

I take god in, forced and warm,
without him I cringe and I writhe.
I love god, I hate him too,
he tells me how to live,
what to do?

You tear into me when I wake
When I think.
Eat.
Sleep.
You make me warm a while
then you go.
And I'm left to
pick up
  what's left.
Even though I know:
your pain
keeps
me
  alive.
So it can't surprise me when
it hurts even more
  each time you come back
because I can't
say

  no.