I was driving through Washington yesterday,
we started our trip in Renton and made our way
down to Moses Lake; and in the process,
we had to pass through the Cascades on our way there.
As we drove, I watched as the exits flew past:
Newcastle, Wenatchee, Snoqualmie, Ellensburg,
and as we sped past each of these, Mt. Rainier
loomed in the distance; her snow-capped peak
standing tall and piercing through clouds,
as the winding road passed through hills and valleys.
As I gazed upon the jagged sheetrock
towering all around me, I could not help but feel small.
We've been told our whole lives just how big the world is
and how much bigger the universe is in comparison
But I've always had a hard time conceptualizing
how infinitesimal and insignificant my existence is.
So to be surrounded by thousands upon thousands
of rock and stone that have withstood
floods and storms and winds for millennia
and still stand strong, well into the stratosphere,
is nothing less than humbling.

In tedium bindings,
And air so confining,
I'm glad for the collar you gave.

A sheetrock, a permit,
A dark-haloed hermit.
I thought I played well as a slave.

but,

My history lesson,
For Mistress, the crescent,
As Moon, you wrenched me to life.

now,

My submission as passing,
Left a Dominant standing,
Shall we play catch with this two sided knife?

we are mice.
we live in holes we scrape out of sheetrock.

we are cattails;
the tails of cats destined to be

chimney-sweeps when we die.

we are only people,
you and i;
only people destined to be

chimney-ashes when we die.

I’ve been around long enough
to know these wounds don’t heal.
I will wake up tomorrow
and put down half a bottle
of hydrogen peroxide,
hoping the void inside
my chest won’t get infected.
This ribcage is missing
more than just bones.
The black hole I met
in my living room
decided to stay for dinner.
He said you’re doing great.
I poured another glass
of regret and told him
that’s ironic.
I’ve realized this is just what
“okay” has become;
fists embedded in sheetrock promises,
sitting alone in the rooms where
everyone told me they would stay.

Cold nights
               It's always Winter here.
It seems this season's stretching on all year.
               The beers are gone
               so let's get walking.
                           Grab
    your coat and let's do some talking.
Loud, through the night.
Know our strides will crunch through old snow
beneath old street signs.

                                              Best
      ­                                   bets aside,
                                    did you gamble
                                       on my days?
                               Did I waste your time?

Days come early,
nailguns out.
Walls go up and ambitions drown.
4 blocks down the street, you're screaming,
"**** the cold and this town. I'm leaving."
                     Sheetrock walls
               and paycheck borders
                     keep us pinned,
                in line, on short order.
                              Cook
                    our­ melting brains.
                        Froze in place
and broke your heart, rinsed me down the drain.

Cold nights
               It's always Winter here.
This frigid season's stretching on all year.
               The beers are gone
               so let's get walking.
                           Grab
    your coat 'cuz them ghosts been talking.
Howling each day.
Haunting all our snowbound steps and
rattling their chains.


                                          Alarms and cars
                                        and pulsing hearts.
                                               Cheapest
                                        prices paid to make
                                                our wage.

                                         The clocks in bars
                                       count tarnished stars.
                                                 Cheapest
                                         prices paid to pave
                                                 our ways.


                                              Best
      ­                                   bets aside,
                                    did you gamble
                                       on my days?
                               Did I waste your time?


Days come early,
nailguns out.
Walls go up and ambitions drown.
2 blocks down the Ave., I'm shouting,
"**** the wind and the snow that's pounding."
                     Rent check walls
               and sheetrock borders
                     keep us pinned,
                in line, on short order.
                              Cook
                    our­ melting brains.
                        Froze in place
and broke my will, rinsed you down the drain.

                                            And I'll move

                                                4 blocks

                                              next Spring...

At least if you don't ask,
I don't have to lie.
I've spent most of the past
few months asleep
on the bathroom floor;
sick of keeping everything in,
too tired to let it out.
"Home" is such an empty word.
I'm not sure why it felt
whole coming from your mouth.
I'm not sure
why I felt
whole.
We both know I'm just an idea
to carve into sheetrock
with swollen fists;
leaving worn out holes that
your heart never fit.
I try not to wake up,
but my body is used to
(everyone leaving)
routines.

ever is times go so fast
flies I swatted come back as mosquitos
Sly grins from cashiers. I think they shortchanged me.
All the small things live
in seconds of life
that add up to
picking the exact ***** out of the millions at
the hardware store.
Or the way I try to perfect a joint
like a diamond finish in sheetrock.
Or the way I get off hearing my saw buzz
through a two by four at dusk
on three hours sleep
with a hangover.

Agreement is not needed,.
Turmoil is deep seeded
Starve it
you can't feed it.
Face it
You don't need it.
Contrary to what they told you
nothing is set in stone.
Even in your empty room
you are never alone.
The black sheetrock sees you.
Even if you don't want it to.
You'll be kissing the ground
when this is through.
Listen to the sound
of possibility, and set your mind free.

There is no forward or back
I can't
Make, Progress
each time is fresh
Besides the fact its baked
under a pilot light

On a stage
The same height
as the eyes of everyone who listens
Im learning lessons each time

But Maybe you aren't even looking
this way
sharing a pint
but really,
you each have your own
thought thats not the point

and Im part
of the furniture
we've argued if I constitute a local
but sometimes you come to a come to a wall
and other times it just grabs you and pulls
you into the sheetrock

I live in a fantasy
Im the best singer
and everyone is listening

I don't know if I am
made of wood or metal yet
this curses will weld
or melt
maybe they will catch flames

but Id expect that they were in the foundations
and really, its simply covered in felt.

My feet of sheetrock
knees and bones
stick and stone

Thighs of mica
calf of plaster
flint skin

I chuckle gleefully in buns of steel
and fiercely beat a sediment chest
with the face of a mesa and obsidian ribs
I see through tides of frozen lids

I’m stuck to the wall
Stuck to the stool below me
Stuck next to the empty fish tank that’s thinking out loud

The couch is looking for me
But the wall has me in her grasp

I remember my life when I was free
But I don’t long for the sun on my face
nor do I miss the grass between my toes

What I miss is roaming my house freely.
Lurking in the kitchen well past midnight.
Walking into the bathroom just for the hell of it.
Sprawling out on the floor and watching the dust bunnies dance while I blow under the fridge

I miss my life as a free man.
Maybe one day I’ll be home again.
But for now, I’m shackled to Sheetrock

A cascade of raindrops pattered on the tile rooftop that adorned a drab house, the soft yet pronounced sound diverting all thought to it's presence. The lone occupant, a young man of twenty-one years old, stared blankly at the marks on his arms. Some still bled, while others had scarred into permanence long ago. The marks looked like elegant gibberish, but to his trained eye, told a haunting tale. The razor edged blade that had etched this tale lay on the table in front of him, thoroughly coated in his blood. He never felt the bite of the knife, nor the weakness in his legs as the blood left his body. He only felt the desire to be rid of the voices. The horrid voices.
The only way he had found to quiet them was to inscribe their bantering into his flesh. His hands drifted towards his throat, where a long ragged scar lay raised around his neck. He should be dead.
He had wanted to die.
He had tried to die.
But he couldn't.
The voices wouldn't let him.
His name was.... He had forgotten. He blinked confusedly for a moment. He knew it was here somewhere. He glanced at the wall and he could see it, carved into the sheetrock a thousand times. He had trouble focusing on it, his eyes twitching violently as he tried to hold onto a thread of his former self. He shut his eyes tight. He took a deep breath, feeling the icy bite in his lungs as he did. He focused on the cold and pushed the voices back into submission, if only for a moment. He opened his eyes and focused on one single name.
Adrian.
His name was Adrian.
For the first time in a long time, Adrian felt his heart beating. He started shaking. His heart beat faster and harder, almost painfully so.
The voices were breaking through again. Their cacophony of shouts was deafening.
Adrian couldn't hold them back. He had to let them free.
His heart stilled once more and he felt his consciousness fade as thousands of claws swallowed his psyche again.
He stood, following an almost robotic motion. He stepped towards the open window.
No. It wasn't open. It was broken. Blood had caked over the jagged edges. The rain was pouring in. Though by the look of the floor, it had rained through the window for quite some time. The floor sagged under the window, threatening to send Adrian through to the lower floor.

Adrian slowly reached a hand through the window, letting the rain rinse the blood from his arms. He could feel the dull ache as the jagged cuts continued to pulsate blood to the surface. He shut his eyes and leaned forward, ignoring the groaning wood beneath him. His eyes shot open as he felt the floor shift beneath him.
One voice screamed louder than the others, "MOVE ******!"
Adrian panicked and tried to step back, but it was too late. The rotten floor fell out from under him. As he fell, his forearm raked across the shattered glass in the window, one large shard piercing all the way through his arm. He hung there as the shard suspended him in place, screaming as he felt the razor edges tearing clean through his flesh. His vision went completely black for a moment as he faded in and out of consciousness. The screaming voices thundered in his ears and he felt tears streaming down his cheeks. The pain was unbelievable.
Just as he thought he might pass out from the pain, the shard snapped, leaving him to fall to the lower story. He landed on a splintered beam, the impact hard enough to break his wrist as he tried to break his fall. He collapsed, defeated. The voices demanded him to stand, but he ignored them. Adrian lay there, broken, bleeding, wishing more than ever for death to overtake him. He knew he should be dead. He could feel the long sliver of the splintered beam passing straight through his heart, yet he couldn't die.
He cried.
He just wanted this to be over.
Please.
He just wanted to die.
Adrian forced himself to stand, pushing against the beam. He cried out in agony as the shard piercing through his arm and the stake embedded in his chest both cut deeper.
Feeling weakness overtaking him, he took hold of the pane glass shard in his arm, yanking it out swiftly. A spray of blood spewed from his arm before quickly subsiding. He watched in panicked horror as his flesh began to knit itself back together. "No no no just **** me!!!"
He started to hyperventilate as he took hold of the stake with both hands and slowly pulled, feeling smaller splinters digging into his skin. His face contorted into an agonized grimace, letting out a pained gasp as the wood was freed from his chest. He threw the stake away from him, shaking violently.
His clutched his head in his hands as he fell to his knees. When would it end? How much longer would he have to endure?
The voices were quiet. Adrian looked around, still shaking, and realized where he was.
The lower floor.
He shouldn't be here.
The voices said to stay away.
The smell.
How long had these bodies been here?
Adrian stood slowly, seeing with newfound horror where he was. This was evil.  The grotesque, contorted bodies lay scattered haphazardly across the whole floor. Their decomposing flesh had attracted hordes of flies and other carrion creatures.
Adrian threw up.
It was too much.
Had he killed all of these people?
There must have been thirty.
Maybe more.
The taste of ***** brought him back to his senses and he quickly looked for an exit. This was the ground floor, there had to be a door.
He looked around, seeing nothing but the tormented faces of the deceased around him.
Wait.
No. Directly behind him.
It was just barely there.
A void in the corpses.
He sprinted to the opening. The voices told him to stop.
Adrian pushed them aside, focusing on escaping this hell. As he broke through the void, he felt a rush of cold air and he blinked. He was looking at a brick wall, but it wasn't from the building he had been stuck in. No this was... An alley.
Adrian looked behind him, expecting to see the corpse room, but to his surprise, there was nothing. Just another brick wall.
Free.
Finally free.
He hoped.
He sat against the wall and wept, both for joy and in fear.
What would happen to him now?
----------





Thunder shook the windows of a lone white sedan as it puttered to a halt at the side of the road. The sky was black over northern Washington, and the shadows beneath the towering pines cast a forbidding darkness in  all directions. The heaviest rain of the storm had just begun, and the wind rocked the car back and forth like a boat in a hurricane. Each drop of ice cold rain was like a bullet against the car.
Black smoke billowed from under the hood as the car met it's final resting place. From the back seat came a low groan of distress. "Stupid... *******..."
Lilya grimaced as she spoke. She was clutching her chest, covered in a blood soaked blouse. "This was... my favorite shirt..."
Lilya's sapphire eyes were shimmering with tears as she glanced out the window. "I guess we won't be making it to that doctor, huh?"
She was laying across the back seat, her head in the lap of her best friend, Soryn. He was stroking Lilya's raven hair, his fingers trembling. "We'll get there, Lil. It's not far."
Soryn's green eyes met hers and she gripped his hand. Her touch was ice cold. She pushed a lock of his blonde hair out of his face and whispered, "You're... A terrible liar, Ryn. Always were."
The front passenger door opened and Malyk stepped out into the freezing rain. His trimmed black hair was instantly soaked, along with his shirt and jeans. Malyk shivered and opened the hood, letting even more smoke rise into the air. He coughed violently as the stench of melting plastic and warped metal stabbed his lungs and mouth. He slammed the hood shut angrily, returning to his seat and closing the door.
Soryn's looked to him, but Malyk simply shook his head. They turned to see Ruby, the driver, gripping the steering wheel hard, her knuckles turning white.
"This is all my fault." Ruby's voice was shaky, as if she were about to cry. She looked at her bloodied hands and she couldn't hold it back anymore. "IT'S ALL MY FAULT!!" Thunder rocked the car again as she screamed, her firey red hair shaking with her body.
Tears streamed from Ruby's yellow eyes, pattering against her skirt. Malyk put a comforting hand on her shoulder, "You couldn't have known. Stop blaming yourself."
Lilya's breath had become more ragged and her skin was beginning to pale. Soryn whimpered, "We need to find help. Now."
Malyk nodded and his eyes snapped to the rear view mirror, where a glimpse of light shine in the darkness.
"Another car! We have a ride." Malyk scrambled out of the car, tossing his wet shirt to the floor board.
Soryn's eyes widened, "No no no, Malyk don't do what I think you're-...."
He was answered by screeching tires and the shrill screams of the other car's driver. Soryn and Ruby looked out into the darkness but could see no trace of Malyk, only the headlights of the vehicle behind them. Suddenly, Soryn's door opened and a shadowy hand gripped Lilya's, pulling her out of the car gently.
A raspy voice echoed, "Let's not waste time. Come on!" The shadowy figure ran to the stopped vehicle. There was a large blood spatter across its hood. Soryn and Ruby were close behind, being pelted by the icy rain as they ran. Soryn slid into the back seat, and the shadow figure laid Lilya across his lap. Soryn glanced at him, "You shouldn't have used your powers. It's dangerous."
Malyk growled, his face lit by a flash of lightning. A nasty row of fangs were accented by the brief fash, along with a pair of curling horns. His skin was shrouded in armored scales, splashed with blood and smoke. Malyk's forked tongue danced between his fangs as he spoke, "Losing her is even more dangerous. I'd say it's worth the risk."
Ruby revved the engine, "Hurry the **** up!"
Malyk ran to the passenger door, his beastly features already fading away. As soon as the door locked, Ruby floored the gas pedal, squealing the tires as she drove off.
The trees began racing by at breakneck speed, their destination still miles away. Soryn ran his fingers over Lilya's wound and she whimpered, biting back tears.
Soryn frowned, "The cut is really deep, and the infection is already setting in."
Malyk glanced at Ruby, who kept the pedal to the floor. "Two minutes, Soryn."
Lilya coughed, spraying her clothes and Soryn's cheek with more blood. "She may not have two minutes, Malyk."
Lilya smiled and whispered, "You worry too much, Ryn." She reached up to him and forced him to look at her, her eyes now a dim shadow of their former beauty.  "Soryn. I need you to promise me something."
Soryn shook his head, "No. None of this promise ****. You're making it through this."
She shut her eyes and ignored him, "If I don't, I want you to sacrifice me. Free yourselves."
Soryn gripped her hand tight. "No. You're going to make it. I won't let you die."
Ruby gripped the steering wheel tight, "Hold on!" She whipped the wheel around to the right, swinging the car wide down a muddy path. Soryn protected Lilya's as the car bucked and swerved.
Malyk swore as he hit his head on the door. "****, Ruby!"
Ruby snarled and ignored him, speeding down the driveway, blaring her horn as she saw a house atop a wooded hill. "There it is! The doctor should be inside."
The lights in the house came on as the commotion was heard. Ruby slammed on the brakes and brought the car skidding to a halt at the front door. Soryn lifted Lilya effortlessly, cradling her like a child. Lilya weakly clung to Soryn's shirt, panting softly. She looked absentmindedly at the house, laughing softly. "This place... I remember this place."
Lilya's body began to shake as she fought for control of her own mind. Her eyes dilated and the whites of her eyes turned a deep onyx color. "**** me... Please **** me... Don't let it out."
Her body was ice cold against Soryn's and he started to panic. She closed her eyes and he could see her reeling from an unseen battle raging in her mind.
Soryn walked up the creaking wooden steps and onto the covered porch. The door swung open and Soryn was greeted by a gun barrel swinging up towards his head. He flinched but held his ground. The gun wielder was a young woman, in her late twenties, clad only in her silk robe. She had the eyes of someone without fear. Soryn cleared his throat, "We need help. Our friend..."
He glanced down at Lilya, who was barely holding on to him. "Our friend is dying."
The woman glanced at Lilya, a spark of recognition in her eyes. She lowered her gun to her side and gestured for Soryn to bring Lilya inside. Malyk and Ruby remained outside out of respect for the stranger's privacy. Ruby sat next to the door while Malyk paced back and forth along the porch.
The decor inside was quaint, but the furnishings had a modern functionality, like two worlds lived in this one house. Soryn had no time to admire the scene as he clutched the seemingly lifeless form of his friend. The woman walked to the basement door, flipping the light switch to the dark stairway. The tungsten lights buzzed to life, casting a blinding glare on everything. Soryn  blinked and let his eyes adjust before continuing  down the flight of stairs. The cold stone bit into his heels, but he couldn't worry about that. Soryn followed the silk-clad woman down to a large room that looked extremely out of place, like it should have been in a  hospital instead of a basement. Once inside, Soryn saw a polished operating table and surgical tools beneath a bright dome light. Soryn swallowed hard and lay Lilya on the table gently. The woman tied her blonde hair back in a ponytail and shrugged her shoulders, letting her robe fall to the floor. Soryn's heart skipped a beat as he looked at her exposed form. Her body was supple and each curve was exquisitely defined, with symmetrical tattoos like tiger stripes on either side of her stomach, legs, and arms.
Something about her confidence and finesse intrigued him. She was the kind of girl that most men would **** to have one night with.
Then it dawned on him. She looked exactly like Lilya. He could feel his cheeks flush at the thought of them. The woman glanced at him and he looked down at the table, flushing completely. She smirked, "If you want to stare at my **** go ahead. If I wasn't okay with it I wouldn't have you down here."
Soryn cleared his throat, his gaze automatically drifting towards her chest before he shook himself. "Sorry, doc. It's just, you remind me of someone else."
He thought he could hear her mutter, "I wonder who."
Whatever insecurity she had was hidden, as she went straight to work on Lilya. Soryn stood at one side of the table, while the woman stood on the other.
Her hands moved swiftly, expertly, focused on mending the dying girl. The woman's hand slid under the table, only  to return with a pair of surgical shears. Starting at the collar of the blouse, the doctor began cutting away. Soon the fabric fell away, followed by Lilya's bra, shorts and *******.
Lilya's clothes were now non-existent, and Soryn blushed as he looked at his naked friend, feeling an all too familiar urge. How many times had he wished to caress her most intimate parts, to feel her warm cleft around him.
Lilya's body was covered in serpentine tattoos, the ink scales winding over her limbs and torso. Soryn's favorite part was a scaly tail that wrapped around her leg. Oh how he had longed to trace the tail up to it's base.
His mind drifted to his fantasies of making love to her and his heart started racing. He bit his tongue. No. Now was not the time to be ogling her. He berated himself for being so selfish. She was near death and all he could think of in the moment was how he wanted to **** her.
The doctor broke the silence with two accusatory words, "What happened?"
Soryn's heart sank, "Lilya and Ruby were looking for someone, and when they tried to sum-..." He trailed off, suddenly feeling more naked than she was. How did he know he could trust her? Ruby obviously knew about her but not much.
The woman rolled her eyes. Her voice was sultry, airy even, as she retorted, "Yes, she tried to summon a Seeker. What happened?"
Soryn's mouth moved to form words, but he couldn't force them out. This doctor knew of his kind. Well enough to know that Lilya was a Bound Soul.
The woman slammed a fist into the table, jarring him, "Spit it out, ******, I need to know so I don't e

After the yelling,
my fist through the sheetrock,
you emptying the loaded dish rack
onto the kitchen linoleum,

and how we glared
at each other, gladiators
breathing heavily,

you stopped me
at the door
carrying my suitcase
and teary eyed
asked,

“Do you still love me?”

I stared at you in silence,
then put down my bag,
and held you
with that unspoken “Yes”
burning in my chest.

Held by history
confined in walls
where paper,
still.
governs all

'For the safety of us all'
these devices screen
next door,
cracking belts
Children screams

Surrounded by eulogies
Of simpler times
Like death by bullet
Wasn't rhythm and rhyme

Home invasion
Gun persuasion
Stray creation
Retribution

Belt percussion
Slight concussion
Entomb emotions
using potions

Supposed sanctuaries
Sheetrock, iron bone
Dimming lights
Of life weary souls

A pacing procedure
Vital to victor a virus
Raging through
Fervetly quells creativity too

incense wine and a clouded vision
a smoky room upstairs
filled with musty scented flora
the iguana looking wasted
in the aquarium
sticking her his tongue out
flicking imaginary flies
like me in the bean bag chair the bongos
squarely between my highs
my thighs I meant
looking gods and goddesses  
right between the passages
of musics
trying to keep pace with all the drummers in Santana
as the beat ravages the sheetrock
uninsulated
spaces in my teen space
hideaway from the drudgery
of High School
and I  never got a haircut
all down to my ***
I twist and
throw it
banging them ****
bongos
How cool was I
trying to learn the
harmonica

Walls creaking
Whispering chatter
Rain outside a low rhythm
Razor glistening
Lighters flicker
Everything caving
It's 41° and I'm sweating
Everything moves in warp speed
As I'm stuck in slow motion
Unbearable
Dark thoughts play yoyo
With threads of sanity
I barely saved
I'm lost
Confused
Existing in loneliness
Few more hours
I tell myself to hold on
One slip would all it take
Out the back door
No one would notice
I'd fade quick
STOP
I don't want to listen anymore
It's all I hear
When I'm alone
I'm not safe
Monsters under my bed
Hiding in my closet
They all find me
When I'm left alone
Skeletons reach for me
Rooms shrink
Coffins call me
Fires hold no warmth
Freezers only burn
This tidal wave of anxiety
Licks at my feet
As mudslide avalanches of depression
Give warning to my head
Someone help me
Save me from myself
Before I do it
I don't want to be alone
Not with these voices
Not in these walls
Breath of fresh air
Trees start laughing
Birds giggle
Shadows crawl
World's weighing
Drift me off to sleep
Before it becomes eternal
I don't want this disease
Corroding me
Sulphuric acid to paper
I'm going mad
Everything grows louder
I feel the itch
**** it I'll scratch
Just this once
NO
I don't want to go down that road
Not again
Cast aside all I've worked for
I've clawed and fought
Yet this feeling is overwhelming
Sheetrock pounded to dust
Still ceram wrap to my soul
I'm caged in these emotions
As long as I'm alone
Please comfort me
I'm a child
Lost in the dark
Someone find me
Before I drown in it

Some days smell like years
like the dinge of sprung sheetrock
when the rain came in
the cricket loose against the chimney
and the attic floorboards
expand with the frosts
of every winter spent in this house
insulated with cardboard and crates
ransacked from the floorplan
and catalogued renderings

And some days smell like years
like the blistex on your lips
when the rain came in
and we kissed this tired old place ours
and the attic floorboards
velvet pine underfoot
whispered tall rooms in this house
and the stuccoed walls spoke
of a lost craft revived
in your freshly washed hair

I can smell in your eyes
the brine of a ceiling
when once we dreamed
beyond the rafters
and collar ties
beyond the shingles
and the familiar maintenance
of our lives