Tuesday, February 2

we hold hands as we see the world below our feet
and are hands meet
and i don't think
i never think only till later
bruised and forever bleeding
my wounds are internal
you'd think they'd notice
or have i gotten better at pretend?
my body more of a tomb then
the supposed birthing womb
and its my duty to bring and share the life i cant feel
my duty and your expectation of archaic womanhood clash with my unrelenting desire to be free
from your tendency to pierce me with the conclusion i am of no use anymore
i always wondered why you had so many things, but really you don't
those are the dolls that clutter life you no longer give the time of day
but the stuff you collect sticks to you like a magnetic crane in a junkyard you dangle you prize possession
not caring if it falls
for the gifts are replaceable
you'll settle for warm sheets and a bed to be
and it doesn't matter who you hurt

abba hold my heart
Monday, February 8

heart to head its the perfect constellation you said
and we sail the waters questioning the wind
but we travel on , we fail to stop riding the tumultuous waves
and i grow weary of the fight, living in the center of the war
i bleed yet stand guard,
i am placid but it is a forgery

my eyes though they are my greatest foe
the betray the climate of my heart
weary my soul wanes,
and how long do my cries fall on deaf ears
and are they deaf or do they hear and absorb what i cannot say
and maybe your listening so intently
and maybe im speaking so loud
and screaming its hitting an octave higher
and im wailing heralding my mistreatment
but maybe your just whispering more then i can hear
i love you my child i have always loved you
i am here i am holding you
rest in me , dont you know your in my every thought that its you i put first


and my weeping is loud now , i cant hide the sound, the whimpering
and i am wounded, the tears crimson stain the floor, i face the corner ashamed of the emotion
hurt
pain
stretching
change
cold
shallow breaths and cold air
my throat constricts
like a boa thats caught the prey
and my throat is ******
i cannot speak
i whimper
sound escapes but not discern able
and in all this i think of another in all this i think of you
and i know i have it easy that their are others
that have so so much less
and i an American do not know true poverty
that i do not know true war
i do not know what its like to not have water... or to live days without a cardboard cut out of real food and i know it
but i still ache
and my tears they fall

grit like sand (take 2)
Sunday, August 22

they said of her...

    damaged.broken.breakable.unfixable.

    ****** to be all that she feared

stuck in the wasting

     they called her hope-less



she had hope before she grew

she carried it around at every turn of celebration

and in her heart she felt that cancer

knowing all to well the divison

a chamber for john and another for judas

judas walked behind her in shroud of darkness

knowing her all to well, keeping  parts of her  entrapped  in all her vices

yet he sang songs of sweet melodies

his counterpart's room painted in the naked truth

layed wake to the quiet and the loud noises of her soul

in this room she found deep sorrow that was married to great joy

it was a foundational healing cloaking her body like a protective shield

here her body laid in the litter of broken dreams and empty nights

this room used to be a temple but now the remnants of a broken down home

a thing she once knew

short and sweet


she woke with the determination of a thousand unrequited voices, and romeo and juilet just herald her love, a stepping stone to the cross she'd bear.

and she swims with celestial beings who whisper truths in her ears, they hold her hand as the earth makes another rotation

she dreams of babies

and tastes the sea

babe
Wednesday, March 2, 2011

and if im not careful ill let you in

and these words will bubble over and rush around you

and there's an excitement im trying to shove aside and keep it on lock

and its not easy... with  the slip of the tongue you'd know my heart

and you are blind to my insides

i cant let you in.


the power you have over me i cant let you in

do you see me dancing under your lightest of touch

and i come alive from the inside out but im frightened

it will just be as it was

just less time and more hurt and rejection to weigh me down

1 of 4
Wednesday, March 2, 2011 at 9:42pm ·

and i am one of the four
another warm face to embody the statistic
blue.black. & bruised
hidden underneath broken down walls once reconstructed
pain rimmed with undulating hate
married to cancerous fear
afraid of the shadows in the day and the dark of the night

and its me who is haunted by the choice of destruction made by another
and we would break it down to economics
something for nothing
property to be used then left behind
we lock the doors on rich emotion
we look as it were an anomaly
rather than the normalcy
while our sisters aunts mothers girlfriends
rage war with demons left in the wake
and their is shame that too
like in invisible chain hung round their delicate necks
and they are broken mending the pieces in the quiet of the night
or in deep dark locations of their heart
and some would say that too have only gotten what they have deserved
but i stand in the assembly line of broken hearts
and i too rage war against that cloak we put on like borrowed clothing 3 sizes too big
the cries of our suffering meet deaf ears..
how long will you chose the comfort of lies when i would spoon you the truth

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

there are days where i don't speak
to see how long id go unnoticed
there's a world inside of me
waiting to be set free
set ... set me free...
as days get crossed off your list
and im just check mark
on another four page to- do
anorexia of mind
i feel myself shrinking there
and i am forgotten
like borrowed clothes you once washed
and there are words
here dormant and still covered
in the dust of unuse
and i am falling flailing failing
to right myself
safety eludes me
i grasp at broken shards trying ransom something solid.