I was falling
for you

the feeling of
being weightless

the sky and
the ocean are
blue

like your eyes

your eyes and
Einstein’s brain

are the depths
I can never reach

but I will drown trying
to reach either or both

like the moon
I go through

phases

some of my
lights go out

and I become
dull and distant

give me time
they will come

back on

like the moon
I do not ask

for praise or
forgiveness

it is just a
phase

I am going through

soon there will be leaves
growing everywhere
hiding the desperate beauty
of these raw emotions
the crisscrossing chaos
the aching naked
vulnerability
of exposing more
of themselves
during the coldest months
I feel alive
when I walk
amongst them
they speak to me
they speak for me
outwardly I will
enjoy the leaves
but inside I will be
waiting for them to fall

she fell asleep
in water

her slip dress
clinging

desperately
to her skin

she dreamed
religiously

about being
there on the

first day
he found

his voice
when no one

could follow
what he said

but they
followed

him anyway
because it felt

right

the pill is plastic.  or I am plastic.  or the pill makes me plastic.  or the pill makes me.  see everything as plastic.  

a smooth light breaks through.  the edges of my soul.   softening the darkness.  and I see all the changes.  in the world.  the subtle movements.  too small for others.  to notice.  too subtle for the world.  to see as change.  

but it is there.  happening all the time.  the world is never.  the same.  we are never.  the same.  in it.  everything sheds.  everything transforms.  we are all replicants.  in some form.  everything feeds off.  of something else.  we are all parasites.  in some form.

the pill is plastic.  or I am plastic.  or the pill makes me plastic.  or the pill makes me.  see everything as plastic.  or everything is plastic.  including the pill.

she said
on that
day

you will
be numb

we will
inject you
with thick
liquid

deadening
the pain

no signals
will reach your
brain

on that
day

so you will
not feel
a thing

I said so
how will
that be
different
from
today

she laughed
uncomfortably

dried leaves whimper
bullied by the wind

then thrown away
to a place they
will be crushed

disintegrated

stars scream
when they die

but we can’t hear them
until years later

I walk outside
to smell the night air

it smells like ice
it feels like spice
on my skin

another asteroid is
approaching

one day it will
not miss us

The pulsing,
the throbbing
of the magic orb
beckons me
downward.

The sun set early
quaking in fear
at the prospect
of my appearance.

The moon is nothing
but a faded memory.

The sky is lit up
by my entrails.

I crash land

exploding into your fertile spaces,
becoming a spectacle,
becoming a god.

I am a rock.
I am a star.
I am a rock star

baby.

you can’t fake
raw

tortured

the black cat
is deep

screaming

“I am just
beginning”

sharp claws
extended

wanting to
cut the world

into pieces

he looks
at me

approaching
him

and saunters
away

we both know
if we were
the same size

one of us
would  be
dead

in a whisper
I dream

a soft song
to sing

in a voice
that breaks me

I am open
willing to be

she is wind
controlled

my body is
free

released
from the
strings

and I float
away

following…

She had no idea that

her words were eating away at me
like hungry piranhas

she was taking
small bites to savor
the newness of my flesh

if she could have seen into the future

the effects were invisible

she would have stopped

and then she devoured
a little more and a little more

but they were still just flesh wounds
always quick to heal
and I could still smile at her

and then more and more and more
until I could not smile

until she took her last bite

and there was nothing
left of me but her words.

she remembered

she had a dream
or was it a thought

it can be hard
to distinguish

the goings on
in the mind

everything can
seem so real

the bipolar pendulum
swings between

perfection and
destruction

her room is
always being

remodeled
trying to be

the first to discover

the myth named
balance

i am nobody’s son

love without love
is a sin

and mostly sin
is a little thing

that grows
and procreates
and separates
like cells

like infected cells
spreading through
generations

she chews gravel

so every sound
aches for
absolution

and when I hear her

i want to
feel my
deepest aches

i want to
feel my hardest
separations

i want to be
disconnected
from everything

i am doll parts

bent arms
bent legs
tangled hair

a plastic smile
painted in
pretty pink

to create
full luscious lips

I am love without love

i am an
interchangeable
sexless torso

oh my words
capable of such beauty
describing peace on earth
and good will toward all
how can they treat you like this
using you to corrupt minds
telling so many lies
as if the words are lies
the lies do not exist in the words
they exist in the minds
and the mouths
and now the fingers
of the corruptors
they infect the words
with a virus
make them sickly
my heart bleeds for them
they do not want to be used
in this way
I hear them cry out to me
each time I try to sleep
do not abuse me
please help me

I can move the universe,
when it wishes to remain still.
Homeostasis.
Anesthesia.
Amnesia;
the tendency to forget
or forgo,
what came before.
I can twist
the “truth”
and make it new.
Can you forgive me?
No grief,
your descendants
will.

she is a
lonely bird
perched

releasing
her sounds
to the sky

with a spoken
wordsong

she speaks
about an
imaginary
girl

and cries

she teaches me
imaginations
are real

with a spoken
wordsong

she speaks
about an
extraordinary
girl

and cries

she teaches me
extraordinary
girls are real

she speaks
about this
deep hurt

she speaks
about this
deep hope

and as one word
follows another

one drop
follows another

so that she waters
the world

and as I watch
her speak her
wordsong

I think

if I could
capture one tear
that falls

if I could
capture that one tear
before it lands

would it tell me
all her secrets

would it tell me
truth

and if that one
tear spoke to me

could I
understand it?

do we speak
the same language?

swallowing
melting white
magic to relax me

I am lying in
a tight space in a
large machine

a soft rag
placed over my eyes
to fool me

my head lifted, tilted
and squeezed

held in place

soft songs I requested
playing in my ears

trying to drown out
the rattle and humming

of the invisible rays
entering and exiting me

sending signals to
the machine
that will read me

am I that obvious?

the world is
filled with fans

it is short
for fanatic

in 32 minutes
she was liked

over 1 million times
talked to

or worshipped
over 21,000 times

I swear

I was only
one of them

tonight

I don’t want to sleep

it is ending

between us

this understanding

I can feel it

in the way

you paint me

white on white

we never had
the chance

to recover
to speak to

each other
privately

about our
divergent paths

one adult
to another

to reach an
understanding

of our loving
mistakes

to show our
scars and share

our stories

it was late

the night she
said goodbye

she is stone
one emotion

that someone
tried to express

I’m sure it
was buried

deep inside him
and it took him

years to find it
in this stone

he knew the
fleeting nature

of his emotion
and once he

found it he
didn’t want it

to leave so he
preserved it

in her

late at night
consciousness abates

the pen enters me
injecting black ink

becoming my blood
I spit black words

staining paper
with my soul

everything that is me
exposed to your eyes

I want you to know me
intuitively

so you never
have to

question me again

she lays in gray
dreams of a fog

where she could
dissolve and

disappear

become a form
that has no

place or substance
that cannot be held

or controlled
by anyone

I shed myself
all over you

black marks of magic

that create meanings
in the way they connect

they were secrets
when they only

existed inside of me
but you give them

the means to live
you give me a life

oh sweet paper!
the child of wood

you carry my soul
all over you

please don’t lose me
I don’t want to be

lost again

I want to be the echo

the powerful remains
of the last word

spoken

deeper than a memory
I want to be

that which becomes
a disturbing sensation

that stays in your brain
and cannot be named

and reminds you
that something was

lost in the chaos
you created

but you won’t know

what it was
you had your chance

you made your choice
you have to live

with me, the echo

time is a vise
and each second
a squeeze

doesn’t everyone
eventually break?

don’t we have to?

she looked for
bright spots so

there must be
some darkness in
what she sees

right?

the future she saw
with him
was everything she
wanted

but not everything she needed

and each night
she fell asleep inside
his empty chest

we all have songs
we can’t sing
out loud
they speak for us
they feel for us
they have the
softest hands
that reach so deep
they know things
about us
we don’t want others
to know
they can rip us
apart from the first
note

they were
captured
together

pulled from
their tight
space

small bolts
of energy

linked by
mystery but

trapped in
separate cages

speaking
in songs

of longing
for each other

I listen to them
when I want to cry

come to terms.  what does it mean?  our words meet each other.  in the middle.  they consummate.  and change each other.  and maybe one day.  we finish.  each other.

we reach.   the momentary ******.  but the river is always.  changing.  as we are always.  changing.   we cannot step.  into the same river.  twice.  we cannot meet the same person. twice.  
we are never really the same.

each day.  we must.  come to terms.  with each other.

little one
you roar

like a lion
roaming free

the world
shivers when

they hear you
they know

you cannot be

contained or
constrained

you will
conquer

all your fears
and rule

whatever world
you choose to

inhabit

Each moment I awaken
there is darkness; neon lights
up the sky.

I walk between the drops of lead

into the grime.
It’s not my time.

Red faints in my lap.

There is certain violence
in her voice
when she whispers my name.

In stillness I pray.

The air longs for the coolness
of her breath.

Later that night,

I am alone in a cab
when it all backfires
and lightness ascends.

read minds

we are human
we are not simple

to say our minds
are oceans

is to underestimate
its depths

exponentially

to speak of
the speed of

thought

is to miss
a lifetime

with each word
we say

if we could
read minds

even the
universe

would seem
small

we tiptoe

the fresh water
the cold first

day of spring

we feel the goose
bumps grow

rising up our
legs into our

speeding hearts
our hands

desire to speak
their first words

but they have
not learned

a language

so we remain
still and smile

knowing
something

is changing

There is less of her today
than there was yesterday.

I can feel it when
I wrap my arms around her waist.
Her deepest breath
is shallow
as if trying to swim
in deep water.

When I say “I love only you”
she hears
“I could love you, if only…”

When I hold her hand
I dare not squeeze;
she feels enough pressure
just being.

the same day
as yesterday

we ask no
questions
of each other

moments
do not exist

memories
are imagined

progress is
a circle

is all this
beginning

or am I
at my end

all the stars
we see
are dead

they just
don’t know it

yet

all night
I am awake

it is raining hard

trying to get through
my windows

I hear her voice

a scream from
the distant

calling calling
to me

her soul is aching
chasing salvation

but it is a rabbit
in an open field

more quick than fast
it teases her
into believing

she is eternal

I was the one
always on
the verge

of something

sitting on a
teeter totter

never scared
enough to run

never brave
enough to jump

never one to believe
never one to be trusted

She fell into
      Captions, summarizing
    her Raw
             Emotions
           unAware
            the Mounting
                     Empty space
                was Devouring her

what happened
last night

it was like
tomato soup
boiling and
spilling over
the edges

catching everything
on fire
growing in height
spreading in width

it was all the rage

a pressure
cooker
unhinged
coming to life

a room
ravaged and
torn to pieces

an electric
heart
broken
circuits
shattered
strands of
wire

shreds of
a broken soul
bleeding
onto paper

they say
satan was the
most beautiful angel

the favored one

broken when
rejected by his
truest love

what happened
last night

I saw the
shape of
god’s back

straight and
stiff

the basement
is dirt

walls and floor

the washer is a
a white tub and
a hand-cranked
ringer

the dryer is
a backyard
vinyl line and
a summer breeze

I am five
maybe six

and I like
the outside

playing toy
soldiers in
the dirt

throwing sticks
to attract bats

catching and
releasing fire
flies

and playing
hide and seek

until it is
so dark
I can’t
see

and they
can’t or
don’t want

to find me

red blood or
red poison

I am awake
in the middle of
the night

feeling bugs

a swarm of
energy

coming
to life

others
asleep

I dare not
scream out

so I scream in

death is an
implosion

breaking through
my inner skin

into the silence
that surrounds me

and my cells bleed
poison not blood

she wasn’t like
the others

she travelled the
world without

accompaniment
her soul

always full
her mind

occupied and

when I wanted
to feel the chills

I followed her
to the church

and listened
to her sing

amazing grace
like she wrote it

we hold hands
create a connection

function as one
large being

one heart
one soul
one mind

we feel the energy
an invigorating force

sharing one life
we reach up

through the layer
above us

gain the vision
of the eagle

see across time
and space

into the meaning
of everything

it leaves us
wordless

we take a
vow of silence

when I
was young

I fell into
an ocean

floating
all alone

adapting
to changes

resisting
nothing I
held my form

a far off
vision

of peace
fulness

I weathered
everything

outlasted
everyone

even through

the roughest
storms

I remained
silent

allowing
others

to use me
for support

Winter’s down
beneath us;
lost in a forest
of white.
I sleep
next to you,
embraced by
your whisper,
warmed by
your smile.
I love you
quickly,
before the happiness
escapes me.

she wanted to
be his escape

someplace he
could get lost

someplace with
no direction

or destination

someplace too
dark to see

where all speech
is touch

but she offered
him too much

so he never
wanted to leave

and thus it was

that she had to
break him

rain falls
with force

a constant
pounding

the world
losing grip

it was always
slippery

but enough
of us
believed in

each other

to hold it
together

we knew

words were
always lies

until they
weren’t

truth was never
merely
what you say

truth always
followed

what you say

truth was a process
always open

to challenge
from anyone

and never owned
by anyone

the shortest line
in the book is

jesus wept

I imagine it
not as a flood

but as

individual droplets
sliding slowly
down cheeks

past closed lips

eyes wide open
there is no sound

no snot or sniffling
no loud wails

the kind of tears
that come from

deeply knowing
the pain of loss

I know this pain
I have wept

I do remember her hands
they were strong
and busy
she had long thin fingers
and pointy nails
she was always filing
her handwriting was
beautiful and
her doodles
were quite good
she made delicious meals
with them and
sewed and crocheted
frequently and quite well
even though she worked
in factories they were
not rough
I guess she took care
of them
I do remember her
nervous habits
smoking and
folding chewing gum wrappers
they were all over the
coffee table
I do that too
folding not smoking

I

This long, dark winter night
extends her reach around me
and pulls me into her
whispering her clichés
into my ears
and I am enthralled;
frozen by my utter belief in her;
as if there is no other way.

II

The front window of my apartment,
like a spiritually starved man,
does not quite fit its frame
leaving space for
a cold breeze to sneak in
and rob the room of warmth.

The broken heater is a small dog
barking incessantly.

III

They say every snowflake is unique
but piled one on top of the
other and all of them
on top of me
they carry
the same
significant weight.

I search through the dark parts of this city for celebrations; clubs or just crowded sweaty rooms where people dance, unaware of anything more than what is right in front of them.  The alcohol and the drugs flow into their bloodstream clouding judgments, blinding them, making them crave pain the way a baby craves his mother’s attention.

Without the sun, no one has a shadow to watch over them.

I am bumped and grinded into by both girls and boys, they crave me, as if I was a succulent, chocolate treat, but I don’t crave them, having tasted all varieties of blood I am now very choosy.  

I suddenly feel a familiar warm tingle throughout my body as if my hair is stretching; my teeth ache from a sudden growth spurt, and slightly puncture my lips.  I spot the object of my longing across the room, the naked nape of a lonely blonde; long whispers of nearly transparent hair spread across her back, skin as white as mourning, a dove, with rivers of blue pulsing through her.  As the Nile, they are the beginning and the end of life. They create a map that guides me to her, her to me.  I can feel the beating; each breath of her chest is inside of me.  She takes me back to the first day, memories of a thousand years reside inside of me and I still remember that first day.

Just before my never-fail dark eyes can call her to me a vulture of another color swoops in; carrying her carcass away.  She was dead before I met her, anyway.

Space is expanding as the crowd grows thin; the music slows to a draining pulse.  I know that sound, the end of the night is near; I leave this lonely land with all the other detached doves and vultures.

I stop at the corner where three streets meet and stare at the dark sky about to blink itself awake, bumming a smoke from one of the aforementioned.

I think back telling myself my story, as if it is the history of life itself.

My sky has only a multitude of stars, never a sun.

I think back to a time in the past when the future was still possible
when she was in the same room as me.  I think of red wine and loneliness; the temptation to taste first blood and wake up full.

I bite my lip and taste the sourness of the words I spoke to her;
words that would fall on deaf ears anyway.

Death is a lingering shadow that disappears when I come near.