My Walls Are Stronger than Your Eyes

2010-02-22T10:23:00.001-05:00

Phase I
is done.
I am
a big girl
now, I
think.
Or something
like that.

I guess
everything
will always be
remnantsofadolescence.

Phase II:
watchmeplaymypart.blogspot.com

Sometimes the Lake and I

2010-02-12T21:11:00.002-05:00

Sometimes, in the early morning silence
I look out through
the dusky air
at the glistening surface
of the lake
and wish
that I were more
than the minuscule piece
of life
that I am.

There is something useful
in this feeling
and slow,
in knowing
who I am.
Sometimes, it brings
peace to an otherwise
quick
and forgotten day.

2010-02-12T19:14:00.002-05:00

There's something about
that alone feeling
you get,
sitting in an empty house
in an empty bed.
It's colder
that way.

Ode to Music

2010-02-12T18:14:00.004-05:00

I sit cross-legged
across the room,
you breathe
down the edge
of my neck,
turn my face
red. It seems
that I'm in
over my head, here
ears wide open,
waiting for a note,
a something
I cannot describe,
more intricate
than lullaby,
more phantom
and fleeting
than oil
and canvas.
I do not
understand you.
I make pictures
with my hands,
create a finished product.
Your product
floats
through my mind.
I cannot
see you.
I cannot
touch you.
How do I know
that you
even exist?

Big City

2010-02-03T10:54:00.006-05:00

It's not like
we haven't done this
before. This dance
around our small,
dirty room like
it's a mansion,
like we have
no neighbors,
like the city
is ours.
Our words fall soft
on the rug,
like no one hears
our screams,
our insecurities,
tangled mass of
dreams and hopes.
This is why
we came here,
we say. This
is what it's
all about.
One of us
smiles,
and we break
into laughter
and song.
We hold
each other's arms
tightly, and sway.
This is why
we came here.

2010-02-03T10:54:00.001-05:00

Cinnamon Williams

Constant Longing For Frustration

2010-01-13T21:40:00.004-05:00

You could say,
I guess, it's all a matter
of perception. You
sitting there, just inches
away but light years
away. And me,
a wrinkled sheet
of paper torn
at the edges.
Thank you,
for not
throwing me away.

2010-01-13T21:26:00.002-05:00

I can sit
across the room
and feel your voice
coming at me
like it's coming
from somewhere else,
like being engulfed
in cigarette smoke
and no one else
is in the room.
I feel like I'm standing,
on this bed, alone
and proud. But then
like a shot to the head
my kneecaps hit the ground
and my eyes
close. You are
a thousand miles above
me, waiting,
but down here
I'll never be anything
but alone.

Robbery at Midnight

2010-01-13T14:38:00.002-05:00

Sick 'em
she said
on the doorstep,
hell waiting
cooing and cawing
pointing at
your oozing smile,
bones protruding,
and that pair of eyes
says I'm to blame.
The door
to the store-way
lit dim in the hymn-singing night
hands tight
to Jesus and the fight
we fought
just to feel alive.
Just to get out.
It's prescribed
in a jar,
lid tight,
its shadow
on your pillow,
its a single shot
pretty spinning bauble
of delight.

White Room Type of Blind

2010-01-13T14:32:00.002-05:00

I have
to find a voice.
I have
a relationship
with accidents
I dislike.

Seven or eight
doors to the left
is the hospital room.

I have
a broken
will.

I'm still looking
through the door.

Little Sister

2010-01-13T14:29:00.004-05:00

That day
you looked me in the eye
and said
you'd never grow
to be
as tall as me
with your eyebrows raised
and the smoking cigarette dangling
from beneath
your two yellowed fingers
hand thrown back
like it was proper,
I stared at your shoes
and waited
until they turned
and walked away.

2010-01-11T20:27:00.003-05:00

Sitting in the
kitchen washing
the stars
Maybe again,
I'll jump through
hoops to
save you. Undress
the thought
in the mess of
tangled headlights
and breath
straining the mockery
of me
into nothing.
At the end
of the ally there's
a left,
take it
and follow
the sound into
dark.

2009-12-03T16:48:00.002-05:00

Sometimes
I wish
that the things I write
would be glorious.
Every pleasing verb
you can think of.
As beautiful as

Everyone'sOwnNothing

2009-12-03T16:42:00.002-05:00

Two girls
sit too close to me
in a coffee shop
where I try
and try
to write.
They talk
about nothing,
circle their nothingness
with bland screeches
and lead laughter.
Talk about
other people's lives
and other people's
dreams. Dreaming
up a way to make
them all happy.
I dig the tip
of my pen
into my paper
and crouch
a little lower
into nothing.

2009-12-03T16:39:00.002-05:00

I'm starting,
here on this paper,
with brand new pencils
and ink,
in case I want to make it
permanent. I'm
starting here,
at the beginning, or
somewhere in the middle
of something I started
a long time ago.
I'm starting
again
with something
I already had
stashed away
from a faceless boy
from a nameless town,
sometime ago.
I guess
I can't let it
go.

2009-12-03T16:35:00.002-05:00

I'm starting a new journal now. So this means a new chapter, or something like that. Just means some new paper to write in, bound by brand new glue, enclosed by brand new leather.
A new chapter--this means brand new propositions, or promises, to myself, or to no one. This means a new tone, a new batch of bullshit, or beauty, to write about.
Either way, it only matters
to me.
I guess
that's all that matters.

Sometimes Poppies

2009-12-02T22:11:00.006-05:00

I don't tell anyone but
sometimes I hold your sweater--
the poppy wool one with the black
shiny edges, the one you bought
with your sister at that little store
on a corner in Vermont with all the Irish stuff
you found on the day the snow came down
too hard to drive home--I hold it
to my face and inhale hard with my eyes
closed until I see you,
the way you were before
the cancer came, standing
in the kitchen, an apron
hanging from your neck and
starchwhite bursts of flour
in the air. Your face
refusing to drop
from a smile, my bones
more comfortable
in my skin than
anywhere, and my feet
not touching
the floor.

2009-12-02T21:52:00.004-05:00

I waited quietly
underneath the weight
of your hand. Waited
for some type of "I'll miss
you when you aren't here,"
or "just five more minutes
under the blankets." And
didn't get it. Your mouth
moved in potent circles
around the house in my mind
minding my thoughts just
a little too much. So finally
I got, I know you're sad
because of the way the inside
of your pupils look after
you blink. At this,
I couldn't stand inside
your silence any longer
jumped my feet to the floor
to escape and waited
for you to follow.

2009-11-10T17:46:00.002-05:00

I came here
traveled through the brisk,
dull night, wrapped tightly
in wool and fleece,
to get to you.
I noticed the leaves
dropping from the trees
like hail in December,
and the small blue tricycle
on the front lawn
of the house where
the crack-addicts live.
I guess
they have kids there.
I stepped into your doorway,
my cheeks pink with cold,
and waited for your arms
to hold me.
Your eyes
never left the
television screen.

2009-11-10T17:45:00.000-05:00

Why is it
that I feel so many
eyes
on my back?

Burning holes.

I love you in five parts

2009-11-10T16:33:00.003-05:00

I

I love you, lying
flat on your back
like a hot wet teenager
on a September night. Your eyes
gleam in the moonlight and
the sweat on your neck
beads, and trickles down
past your hips,
thighs, and settles in the Earth.

II

I love you, screaming
for oh-please-dear-god to
come and save you from your
too-big thoughts. He
fondles your dreams like a
child's toy, beaten down,
sticky, and no release.
Release me from where
there's no way out.

III

I love you, far
ten-thousand miles away
and hiding beneath the
brush in the moonlight.
Your eyes like flowers,
or stones,
and I can see your petals
dropping to the dirt.

IV

I love you, now
underneath the covers
cuddling down inside
into our hibernation.
Warm, against your neck
though I wish I were inside,
swimming through your veins
like you've nothing to hide.
I love you, tomorrow
when we wake, staring at each other
through new eyes, but we see
the same things.

V

I love you, sitting
in your corner and drooling
trapped on a two-way street. See
something like love and
you run-plead
Oh-jesus-dear-christ don't
let me alone tonight.
She's got fur and fangs
and tits, and I'm quite sure
there is nothing greater
I fear.

World Where We Live

2009-11-09T12:26:00.003-05:00

No, no, there is nothing
here for us, nothing
for him or me,
And in the shade of
a willow tree I burn
out, like the sun or
my bedroom candle
and leave a trail
of withering smoke
for all to see.

No, there is
nothing here, underneath
my skin. I'm clean and cold
and milkywhite like
the underside of
my father's sailor tan.
There is no position
to fill, no
gaping world-wide
hole. There

is only the King,
kind and forgotten,
belonging to no
one, besides his
Queen, and she sleeps
with her chin on
another man's chest,
for all to see.

Half Full

2009-10-28T15:55:00.002-04:00

Girl from the '90's, I am not
your mom. I'll be your roommate,
best friend, sister. I like
your heart through a microscope--
real up close and numb
like a coke-nose. You listen to
spoken-word tapes that crackle
from use and you've got tall dreams
and a mind that has an output
like a steamship. A mouth that
does not close. You've got trophies and
stamp collections, rocks and
journals, half full, like
your soul. I am not
your mom, but I'll tell you
when to go to bed.

Some Kind of New Modernist Notion

2009-10-28T15:12:00.005-04:00

Find a new name
for what's been lost,
change our language, connect
the dots with
duct tape. Also,
save the planet.
And brush my hair,
so society trusts me
and lets me in
just enough so I
jump on my soap box and
they kick me out again.
Dropped into exile:
does anyone know if she's alive
or okay? Has she called it quits?
The hisses whisper
she'll be back again

Where's all the love
and death? All I feel
is technology, real up close
and cold like a livewire but
I think I get it now. I think it's
falling into place or
falling apart. I think I see it
sliding off the sides and
out of order and I think

I'm alive! There are mountains
and valleys of vines and leaves,
fresh and green and wilting. Vines
sprouting up from the roots
of this Earth and making their way,
and making their point, growing,
expanding over young bodies and old
spreading like an air-born plague,
forming a net and capturing
our souls. And it's clear,
no one cares. No one can see
through the vines anymore.

Let's acknowledge the elephant
and touch each other's hands
until it hurts, because it's nice
to feel again.

Is there anyone alive out there?

2009-10-28T15:01:00.002-04:00

I'm tired of waiting for the same things
to change. Still waiting. Always waiting. Can't
wait anymore. Listening to your ghost
outside my window, I'm not breathing
in your smell on my pillow anymore. I watch
the flowers dance on the back of my hand;
I enjoy the taste of youth. In truth,
it's time, I'm just a scared American,
looking for the fountain, trying
to live the dream but I'm just living
in Hell. I can't do this anymore.

There isn't any air in here! The trees
are bare and my throat's dry and my
eyes itch. It's easy to keep believing
we can do no wrong, but the baby's mouths
are growing larger, and larger
by the day. It's easy to keep believing
I'm going insane and swallow pills and
follow a book. It's easy to keep believing
we can do no wrong.

Autumn

2009-10-05T11:35:00.005-04:00

Deception lingers
among green fading to gold,
sun beams illuminate
dead brilliant reds,
like a whore's lipstick kiss.
Light filters
through the trees like
a broken kaleidoscope,
warped tunnel vision
seizing to make sense:
How could everything be
dying today?

2009-10-05T11:33:00.002-04:00

Each year it is a reminder.
A birthday is a just an annual realisation that
I am not as important as I think I am.

A Letter To My Unborn Child;

2009-10-05T11:31:00.003-04:00

I walk through gold, red leaves,
feel the crunch of a
decaying forested canopy
beneath my feet.
I breath in the light
heat of Autumn,
alone. I breath in a
world, not yet for you.
Young blood surges and soars
within my young skin. The heart
within my chest pounds
for me, lungs fill and depress,
an exquisitely formed system
of life, not yet for you.

I do not yet love you, think
of you, dream of you,
protect you.
For now, I am for me.

I walk upon this
one small space for not only
our kind, but countless
undiscovered others
that may be destroyed
before their legacy
has a chance to live.
I walk by mothers
quietly awaiting the day
when they gaze upon
a fresh set of human eyes,
their eyes,
your eyes,
and discover within them
a love that only exists
in this:
Mother and Child.
I walk upon
this Earth and see a world
that is not yet ready
for you; if
it ever will be.

I...

2009-09-14T12:54:00.000-04:00

I
I, I
I , I , I...

Don't know any other way to speak,
apparently.

Isn't There Someone for Everyone?

2009-09-14T12:52:00.005-04:00

There's a fat lady on the bus.
Her dirty teeth protrude from beneath
her hairy upper lip.
She stares straight ahead through
thick lenses,
waiting for her prince to come.

2009-09-14T12:52:00.002-04:00

I woke up hollow
like the trees in December
and cried into my pillow.
My sheets smell like your skin.

2009-09-14T12:50:00.000-04:00

I still feel you burning like the sun
I still feel you burning like the sun
I still feel you burning like the sun
I still feel you burning like the sun.

2009-09-14T12:49:00.001-04:00

I'm sitting on the sand, reading
Watching helicopters fall from the sky, dreaming
of a time when you might understand
The insides of my mind.

2009-09-14T12:48:00.000-04:00

I'm tired of sleeping with war

2009-09-14T12:47:00.000-04:00

There's no emotion
in what we say anymore;
our actions breed
the end of time.

2009-09-14T12:46:00.000-04:00

There's no good
in not-knowing
So I figured it all out
on my own.

2009-09-09T19:51:00.000-04:00

We slid off of the blue and red flowered seat covers that lived inside my grandmother's maroon Toyota, Corolla and let ourselves become blanketed by the Springtime sun. She would have loved this day. My dad locked the driver's side door, forgetting where he was, or maybe he had learned to expect the unexpected. My aunt met us in the parking lot. She was wearing an over-sized fleece jacket and she cuddled inside the grey like she was shrouded by a cold, bleak winter, much unlike the day that surrounded us. Her face was bare and pallid, lacking the usually mandatory eye-makeup and rose-colored lipstick. My dad attempted one of his cracks at his older sister, but stopped short and turned it into his best attempt at a complement. He wasn't used to those. She didn't seem to hear his words anyway.
My aunt, my father and I began towards the almost new-looking yellow house that sat in a well-landscaped lot, suspiciously tucked behind the main building of Elliot Hospital like they had something to hide. "Hospice House," the sign read. Interesting, I thought, how the world seemed to be coming into bloom around us. Yet, we were walking into a house for the dying.
When we got to her room, my younger cousin Nicole was sitting on the couch at the foot of the bed. My Uncle Jere was sitting upright in a wooden chair, his huge body looking as awkward as seemed humanly possible, trying desperately to figure out what to do with his hands, and my grandmother, lying in the center of the room, her small body encased in a light pink satin night gown that I knew at first glance was not her own. My grandmother did not wear pink satin night gowns. My grandmother did not let herself be seen without her false teeth, or her glasses. My grandmother did not even get sick. She went on weekend hiking trips in Vermont. She kayaked rapids with her younger sisters and taught me about healthy eating, introducing me to soymilk, whole grains and somehow made me like vegetables at a young age. My grandmother fought breast cancer twenty-five years ago and won. But now here was this women, only remotely resembling my grammy, but claiming to be her, and I had no other choice but to sit at the edge of her bed and reluctantly grasp her cold and unresponsive hand. It was only three hours and forty-five minutes until the machine stopped beeping, and I didn't have to hold it anymore.
"Go get the nurse, Steve," my aunt said in a scared and panicked voice. My dad ran out of the room as he was told. There's no point, I thought, this is why she's here.

The following September I started my second full year in college, my first year only being possible because my grandmother was the only family member who trusted my judgment enough to co-sign a twenty thousand dollar loan. I had worked all summer at a coffee shop on Main Street right outside of campus, and it was a easy job, short hours and slow pace in the dead of July. But my co-workers and I welcomed the new school year as almost ten other people who worked with us would be returning. We settled comfortably into our academics and new work schedules as the leaves turned their burnt oranges and fiery reds.
I thought about my grandmother every single day since her death, and sometimes wondered when I would stop seeing her face in my dreams, or smelling her warm vanilla spice hand cream. And just when it seemed too much to bear, I would forget that horrible Spring day all together. Just for a split second I would hear my thoughts saying, "Oh, don't forget to tell Grammy about... oh, yeah." There was a void somewhere within me that, even six months later, I couldn't begin to describe.
Somewhere in the end of October I was at an auto parts store with my dad and my younger sister when I received a call from a friend, a girl I worked with. "Have you heard yet?" I spit out a quick "no" like I knew what was coming. "Justine passed away."
I found my way out of the store, still holding the phone to my ear, until I reached the warm, dirty pavement and bent my knees until my legs intertwined and I was sitting indian-style like a child. How? What do mean...away? What happened? I couldn't be sure if I was actually speaking into the phone or just thinking so loudly that I thought everyone in a ten mile radius could hear me. But I just worked with her on Saturday. She was so excited, she was going to be Poison Ivy for Halloween. I just saw her yesterday. She cannot be gone.
The following week doesn't make any sense in my mind yet, and I can't imagine that it ever will. My friends and I skipped classes and camped out in the back of the coffee shop like it was a safehouse. We spent hours muttering, "But she was the nicest, sweetest person I know... Why did this happen?" Eternal questions for which there could never be an answer. Until a few weeks after her funeral, which the fifteen of us attended arm in arm, we wouldn't willingly let each other out of our sight. We had lost one of us. A person our age. A friend. When we're young, we only think it happens to our parents, and all the people we don't know. When we're young, we are invincible. But when it does come, that first contact with the realization that it could happen to any one of us, at any moment, it lingers in the back of our minds for the rest of our lives like the distinct scent of warm vanilla spice hand cream.

Wounded Flower

2009-09-08T22:28:00.003-04:00

When I talk to you
about the way his hand
slid up my thigh,
how my body sweat, wet
with fear and no way in, crying
for a reason still to live, after
all my soul has been devoured
by this moment, after all my hope
has succumbed to the strength
of his hands, pieces
apart my thoughts like
an antique puzzle
lacquered with gloss,
I’m eternally stuck
in this moment,
in this movement,
I’m lost.
I become some sort of child
born of a broken home, hearing
her mother’s tone
moan a lovesick poem
like it’s her last,
crawl across a garden
overgrown with grass.
It’s like a disease, but
not quite. I’ve been thrown
and my mold is cast.
I’ve been sculpted,
this will be my last
shape. I will succumb
to this lonely, overgrown fate.
Those fingers did slip
up my thigh.
Yes, I was twelve.
No, I did not cry.
I held my breath and held
the moment on the edge, like
I was God and sculpted time, I
did not wither
like a wounded flower, I
found my feet, studied my toes,
let my beautiful, wounded
twelve year old heart
glow because this memory
is my last. Because this
is how I was cast.

Love (slam)

2009-07-28T10:33:00.002-04:00

I sit real up close to you
and stroke your arm in the dark
feel each hair as clear as daylight
and learn its placement.
I try and try and fail
to unzip your skin and step inside
breathe in your insides
and cry and wash away your sins
and see what your heart looks like up close
see if the words engraved inside
could possibly begin to describe
the pain you feel when I'm not near
the passion you feel when I'm in your hands
the love--and I'll just say the word
because it can't be described
and I know this, but I can try.

So, I sit real up close to you--
I'd sit on your lap if I could--
wrap your arms around me in a big bear hug like your grandmother gives
until I'm squished,
I want to disintegrate and melt and combust, all at once
My bodily functions cease and become dust
my skin becomes invisible
and I feel invincible inside this love.
Inside you, I could climb Mt. Everest in a string bikini, barefoot.
I could swim the English Channel with a rope around my stomach
dragging a school bus.
I could walk on water, tell everyone Jesus was a woman and I'm her,
get the whole world to hold hands and sing campfire songs about love.
There'd be boats lined up across the ocean,
rows and rows of people across the globe devoted to finding
their one true soul-mate,
that single human being that makes them want to step inside their mind
and walk around,
anxiously await the turn of each corner like a life-size maze and never sit down,
never losing that intrigue,
that want to be inside--
MMM, if I could only find the words to describe love,
I'd write them over and over on the side of the Eiffel Tower
with a fine tip pen until every square inch is red.
I'd sing them out loud over and over
until I forget language and they're the only words I know.
I'd get a radioshow and broadcast my voice
saying the words I feel when I look at you.
I'd make world news standing on the edge
of the Golden-Gate Bridge
getting the word out, while everyone screams at me to,
"Get the fuck down!"...
And I'd do it, If I could only find a way to describe love...
No, If I could describe Love,
I'd only tell you once
and I'd memorize the way your eyes looked,
the direction in which that circle of stone-blue shifted,
the size of the breathe you took,
the way your hand shook...
If I could only find a way to describe love.

Procrastination

2009-03-03T23:01:00.003-05:00

I'm watching the walls as they move
in and out like waves and I'm
counting the days til it stops.

Big man on the hill said it's all gonna be good now,
it's all gonna be okay.

I'm licking the stamps like I lick
my wounds, real calm and gentle til
the check clears or the clock.

Small voice in my mind said it's ready to play now,
ready to come out today.

I'm listening to the pages turn like
trees burn and I suffocate and I
contemplate trying to save the words.

Old woman in the corner yells it's all too late now,
today's the last day.

2009-03-03T22:51:00.002-05:00

I'm gonna ease into this real slow
A little like lava
flowin' from a volcano
And I'm gonna call the shots
and kiss you hard
get what's comin'
then drive real far.
I know you see me
hidin' under those white sheets
gigglin' like I'm a prisoner
mad as a poet
and just let free.
So I'm gonna back right up
and let you in
give you a shot
feel where you been
And if momma don't like it
and if daddy don't much care
you know you'll be sittin right up close
in that co-pilot chair.
Don't take me for a fool though
don't think I'll sink when I jump in
I'm gonna call all the shots
I'm gonna give 'em hell again
It's just I been away a bit
I been doin' my time
I'm a little rusty as they say
I got to fallin' a little behind
But, fuck, it's life,
or livin'
and fuck if I know
where the time's been going
so I'll just get back on now
and I'm gonna ease in real slow, now
real slow.

2008-09-18T20:32:00.002-04:00

He bounds down the hill toward my muffled yells;
"Hey, I'm suffocating under here."
I cower in fear at gaudy fame
and forgotten fortune,
lowering my head as my nose runs,
like a new born staring at the sun.
I would've stuck my head out of the ground
before it got too deep
but I like the way the dirt smells,
and I liked the way your body felt,
standing on mine.
But now this love and loss clumps
into a pretty neon mess
and slowly moves through the maze
of my intestines.
Oh, how I long to be fourteen again.

2008-09-12T22:53:00.002-04:00

My bones are cold
Rattling against the back door
Suction on the storm window
and a forgotten letter
but you'll never forget the words

My thoughts are old
And my skin so young still
Racing clocks from fear of sinking
and killing time
because you'll never forget the hurt

but you'll never forget the way the words sounded in your head
over and over and over again
over and over and over agin

becuase you'll never forget the hurt, beating in your chest
over and over and over again
over and over and over again

And when the window breaks,
you come crawling between the shards of glass
but it's never over

And when your bones ache
you lie in bed waiting for time to pass
but it's never over

And when your reflection fakes
you stay to see who dies last
but it's never over

A song unleashed

2008-09-12T22:47:00.002-04:00

Yesterday my heart, it sounded
sounded a little like a wolf
THis morning my brain, it pounded
put my memories up on a shelf

This pain's been strumming along now
humming the tune to my thoughts, somehow
And I'd like to give it a rest,
So much unrest

A blur of color is all I see
no definition, like red and green
And it's all I can do to stop now
Forget the person I was, and digress, somehow
And I'd like to sit and digest
So much to forget

These words are bland
Hit the page with a solid plop
like the wrong key in the marching band

2008-09-03T17:43:00.003-04:00

Dear momma,
Forgot to call you again
guess I got better things on my mind
I'm not too angry, though my glass is half empty,
got better things to do with my time.
I didn't get your christmas present
guess it got lost in the mail like the rest.
Didn't get your condolences
we know you didn't like her best.
And momma, yeah, yeah,
daddy's doing just fine
though I know that's not what you meant
no, no, momma,
he ain't showin' no signs of dyin',
Jesus, momma, give it a rest.
So I started school today,
taking some real good classes this year,
I won't bother tellin' you what they're about,
won't waste my ink, know you don't much care.
Sister's doing good, I guess,
followin' in your shoes,
that's all you expected from her,
so she ain't got nothin' to lose.
Well momma, I'll keep it short,
don't really even know if you're readin'
I really missed you in my life,
I'm a real smart girl now, and I
know it's a momma I been needin'.

Love, xo
Rose

P.S. Momma, this may be a long shot,
but I got time,
I found me a real nice boy,
and we're doin' fine.
So if you want to stop by
maybe have some dinner,
I got some real nice wine,
picked it up last winter.
I'll be waitin' by the door
I'll even keep it open,
the table'll be set at seven
but if you don't show, then,
well, I'll pick myself up, and try again.

Observatory

2008-09-03T17:32:00.005-04:00

There's a sick smell in the air,
swimming into your nostrils
silencing your sorrowed thoughts.

You walk behind her calmly,
inhale with every other stride
watching your toes as you walk.

The flowers on the walls were painted
for millions of pairs of eyes to see,
The silk in the coffin was cream coloured,
We like to say it's a lovely place to rest in peace.

Exile

2008-09-02T20:49:00.003-04:00

The sun streams through the Westfield window
smells of dry, heavy cotton and wounded air
she sinks down into her cushions, real low
she's suffocating, but no one seems to care
(and daddy's holding the noose, preachin' what's fair)
And she carries her memories on her shoulders
'bout as comforting as that distant railroad's cry
And she runs her hand over her own cold skin
inside, feels like there's nothing left, but to die

The white flag raises
and the blood on her hands dries
A young man sings what her faith says
And she's got no reasons to try

The wind makes its way into her dreams, somehow
a dirty, black tunnel carrying silent, screaming children
she wonders if she'll make it to higher ground
if she'll live to tell stories 'bout where she's been
(and mommie's holding the exile telegram, signed the "good" women and men)

And the white flag flies
but it's torn and tattered and tried
A young generation breathes a new life
And she's got new reason to try

2008-08-24T22:47:00.003-04:00

Don't move.
We're surrounded.
CHeck the clock.
The bell just sounded.
Fill my empty glass back up to the top.
The edges of the letters are turning brown and tearing apart
her cursive was strong, a misrepresentation of her heart.

You and I didn't have a chance to properly meet:
you're the damaged child in the hospital bed,
I'm the poor man in the street.
I try to keep my shoes spit-shined in case I get a job
I've gathered the feeling that you're grave-digging isn't just a hobby.
but for now I'll trust you, let you kiss me, I'll fall against you
let's move in an unorganised circle,
I'll follow your lead and wear my dancing shoes.

2008-08-24T21:55:00.002-04:00

Let them say that you don't care
they're as fair as a hurricane, gasping for air
And we feel the fortune and we feel light
We're god, and we're saints and we're the devil if we dare

The In-Between Pages

2008-08-24T21:29:00.002-04:00

This is Silence, sacred and lost
like every single one of my futile thoughts--
I think I used to believe this
before I thought about jumping off.
Then there is Jeff,
always trying to get me into that stale bed
cold as ice when you listen closely,
melting glaciers and the drips entice me
the corners sharp as ice, yet inviting,
but I think I giggle because I like when they slice me.
Forget my skin, it's falling off anyway
and the public doesn't like it;
the people only smile when my clothes evade me,
so I'm trapped in this cave and waiting
hoping for an inch of leeway.
What do you get when you tighten my belt?
Well, my guts spill out,
but I don't die immediately.
And sitting on display at the museum
are only rumours of how I felt.
I chose to be sick, but not to be poor
the tall and mindless look down on me;
"That girl can't afford an education,
she has nothing to live for."

2008-08-19T09:45:00.002-04:00

There's something off here
shadows on the backdrop
lost in devoting their souls
to the shattered sunlight

The pretty masterpiece
seeps and fades and pants
as the yellow young devil
performs her beloved dance

dead man's clothes

2008-08-03T01:09:00.002-04:00

Sit, crying
harassing your mind
dying to remind yourself
of the lines you memorised

Sit, cold and hoping
lost in devoting
a dead soul within
a corrupt, mummified skin

It's a crime
at some time
love and lost soldiers
both die inside

It's a crime
to say there's nothing left but rubble
we can all be revived

Sit, fighting
denying the emotions you create
debating whether everything is fake
or a real-life love story
in a dead-man's clothes

Put This to Circus Music

2008-08-03T01:05:00.001-04:00

I feel messy
and I want to join the circus.
A man across the street
stares me down
making me nervous.
He's wearing a flag for a tie
going home
to his family.
Oh, if we could all
be so ignorant--
I mean, unlucky--
fuck.
You told me you
can tell
when i lie.
Guess my talent isnt hiding.
I play with my scarf
and sip my coffee,
wipe the tears and
smeared ink
from the painted murel pages
inside me.
I broke my phone into pieces--
the ringing
was stinging my thoughts,
corrupting my pretty pink
pony dreams,
where everything is candy,
as sugary and sweet as i make it seem.
The monkeys bang tambourines
while clowned face murderers sing.
Elephants sit,
practicing tricks on my shoulders--
creating tension.
I want to go to bed soon.
My scarf is tightening
im looking for the handles
to loosen the vice
on my temples
but the magician hid them.
I'm not sick,
just sinking into oblivion.
I'm traveling on top of the bus,
holding on to life with a loose grasp,
speeding under the underpass,
flying along the highway.
Fast is never fast enough.
The wind stings my cheeks
and Autumn Leaves land inmy coffee,
reminding me
that Im never where I should be.
They want me to surrender
and quietly conform to society,
but the clowns
are chuckling between songs
in the background
of my thoughts
pointing ghostly white fingers,
making fun of me.

The Lighthouse

2008-07-21T22:39:00.004-04:00

We watched all the ugly people passing by
In the stale dark air underneath the ground
You wiped my face dry and told me not to cry
But I knew I was losing all I'd found

If we get out of bed
and my fingers are still in your hair
please, just leave me there

We walked along the hot, wet sand
on the shore where your family grew up
You put a heart-shaped rock in my hand
but I knew all the dreams I'd dreamt were made up

If we make it to the lighthouse
and I'm gasping for air
please, just leave me here

As you pulled away
As your hand slipped from mine
I was just looking for the words to say
there will never be the time

If we make it to our house
and I'm still hoping you care
please, just leave me here

The Dance

2008-07-13T20:40:00.002-04:00

Dear Lady,
hold out your hand;
Don't beg for money,
beg for mercy
and don't cry when you fail;
Disease is comin' quick
my friend
and tears,
like holy water
not burnin' the truth
but burnin' your skin;
We'll fall
fall miles in a minute
and kiss the ground
when this is done;
Shed your dreams
like a snake's skin,
get as close as we can to the edge;
Roll in the dirt,
dampen the Earth
plant the seed,
for this is the dance
of the death and birth
of every mother's kin.

Inside My Tin Toy Dream House

2008-07-10T22:23:00.005-04:00

Does it cloud your room
when I can't get to sleep?
There's a little spill of beer
on the floor in the hall
and he smells of a sore liver
and ashes of parents dead and gone.

Tonight we crawled out the door
looking for cats in the yellow grass.
I'm disconnected and swimming in my own tears
just to tell you the story of my life,
but distance and fear breed fiery tight ropes between us.

The door always slams at the wrong moment
and distorts my scroll of thoughts.
"Mama, I know it's young and wet,
but grab my hand just once;
you won't regret it."

The coffee's burning the house down again
but I'm not sad,
my flower wilted long ago.

My Mother's Urn

2008-07-10T22:11:00.002-04:00

My pen went dry
just as the last star burned out
And you say I'm lucky.

I followed you for days
with that crooked smile on my face
(the one you hate)
And you tried to kill me.

If the monsters invade my room tonight
I'll throw up the white flag
And pray the devil is easy.

I burned down the library
and put the ashes in my mother's urn
thinking this could save me.

Prism (Prison)

2008-07-10T22:04:00.005-04:00

Like ingredients mixed in a blender
Like the moon rising and
the sun falling fast and cold
out of sight
There is something lost in here,
something lonely and out of place,
something slicing my words in half
just as they accumulate
and leave my eyes
something I may never lay out
something not so black and white.

With my hands against the prism wall
I look out
longing to see straight
just once more,
But as you turn to leave
I see the key in your hand,
and realise freedom may never come.

Australia

2008-07-10T21:29:00.001-04:00

Maybe nothing shows
when I'm inside out
And maybe Australia's calling my name
Maybe I'll drink all night til I die
And go happily insane.

2008-07-10T20:31:00.001-04:00

act your age

2008-06-29T20:23:00.000-04:00

I crawled out my third floor window last night
I wanted to fly to your bed
But I woke up screaming instead

These are my dreams,
Without you

The rats flooded my dirty room
I danced around the pain in their eyes
Until I killed the last one

There are no dreams,
Without you

All Rules Apply

2008-06-29T02:31:00.002-04:00

Watch the birds fly in circles
You think they know what's coming?
Watch the birds fly in circles
Is there enough time left
for forgiveness?

Don't ask, don't tell
You should've thought of that yesterday
Now you're going to die
Now you'll pay

Watch the humans run in circles
You think they know what's coming?
Watch the humans eat up the minutes
They'll scatter like ants when it comes
They'll scatter like ants when it comes

You were selfish
Now you'll pay
You were ignorant
That ends today
It ends today
It ends today

Not Human

2008-06-29T01:57:00.000-04:00

Blow a bubble and place me inside
Have the time of your life
Blow a bubble and place me inside
I’ll be here ‘til I die

Pop my bubble, I’ll shipwreck
Pop my bubble, I’ll escape below deck

I don’t want to be human
Make me an animal
I’m stronger than you think
I’m stronger than you think
I’m stronger than you think

Pop my bubble, I’ll gasp for air
Pop my bubble, I’ll never die in here

Feed me paper
And I’ll drink ink
I’m an animal, not human
I’m stronger than you think

Poking the Membrane

2008-06-29T01:56:00.000-04:00

Theres nothing left for me here
So ill cut my head sheer off at the neck
And pretend nothings wrong
Do my work
Patch the earth
Do my work
And go home

We’re falling, we’re flying, we’re going insane
Crawl back up the ladder another day
And dance

There’s nothing left for you here
So trot back to where you started to bleed
And pretend you’re not wrong
Fix your sin
Patch your skin
Fix your sin
And seethe

We’re soaring, we’re lying, we’re poking the membrane
Jump down the hole to seek the devil
And dance

2008-06-29T00:09:00.002-04:00

For days I watched the drops of rain drip
off the tip of a handsome green leaf.
It was new and fresh and smelled
of a young, fetus summer

For days I lay under the hot, yellow
sun and let the tingling rays
writhe their way beneath my skin

I let my worries evacuate my mind,
only to build an iron block
in the center of my chest:
The winter is always near

War!

2008-06-28T23:32:00.004-04:00

I shouldn't have come here
and I've no way to get home.
(it's okay, you'll find your way)
Barren trees, and children sing in glory
and sadness
and disbelief.
(it's okay, I've nothing more to say)
"Young girl,"
Samantha said,
"it will turn out all right in the end."
Now she's dead,
brutality won in the end.
(it's okay, you'll find your way)
Rain on my pillow, yeah,
I'm feelin' okay,
reaching my hands out for another day
another day
another day
another day
Glistening with the gold of regret
(and the pain of a missing piece or two)
guess I'm not so perfect
without you
without you
Yes! it was all too perfect!
I can't control the static any longer.
I can't grow any fonder
of the way your skin smells when you sleep
the way your chest beats
(up and down up and down up and down)

this is all there is

There's a pale blade making it's way
through my veins
I'm disguised
six months inside
alone and unholy,
and you,
finding every possible way
to run from me.
There's an absence here
the one I created,
with a bag of coins
and thin, silvery shining scalpel blade
"you'll feel a little pressure here"

I never wanted you anyway

This is a folk song
wrapped in yesterday's tears
and yesterday's fears
Cross the street to avert darkness' eyes
in the bleeding face
of black and white
black
and
white
(is there a difference)

I was ready to be fed
but I was just a young victim
like all the rest of them
my parents judging creatures
getting warm on sticky liquor.
I was ready to seethe and bond
when every leaf cried
"the rain's a fraud!"
I was ready to give up and die
waiting for nature to complete the job.

BLANK WHITE PAGES
STARE UP AT ME, NERVOUS AND WAITING
LIKE A PALE, NAKED WOMAN
LYING STILL
WAITING TO BE IMPREGNATED.

Shapes and colours
shapes and colours
i know none
The Great Abyss=severed dreams.
does not equal
is equal to
(is there ever a difference)
There's nowhere where I am my own
always pulling the curtain back
for the next act
With no one else,
am I none?
always drawing the curtain
for the next desertion of self
(twenty years later, I know it must have been her smile)
I am fake
I am a fake
I am nothing now
my words are not my own
There is nothing left now
kiss me goodbye and go home
You
come at me
with a wooden sword
You must know by now
that you can't win
you must know
by now that
this is
the
end

2008-05-20T20:47:00.002-04:00

Pull through, sound love
if time could kill

I Am Woman

2008-05-20T20:42:00.003-04:00

Sick cell
pick your kill
I am skin
Nothing still

Fire door
mind my war
I am cure
Nothing more

Love hole
Fill your mold
I am sold
Nothing told

I'll talk in my sleep
And birth for the world's reap

The Curtain-Draw Birdie

2008-05-20T20:36:00.003-04:00

Bird without flight
told me to run
erupted jungle fight
under the forest sun
The trees curl into themselves
And shiver and shed a new form of hell

Samantha called to him
she knew his red eyes ran
agony felt the sun dim
bury your sweet face in the sand
The birds sing an ancient song
And the ship sank, the journey long

I lost you then
I lost you then
I lost you then

The world thanked the curtain-draw bird
for he exposed love on a map deserted.

Ignorance Stings Everyone

2008-05-20T20:08:00.003-04:00

Devour happy, flowers rot
watch the paintbrush blame
Quiet war, cousins fought
Search for the vying flame

Seethe mist, ringing heed
Sing harbour songs still
poor death, foul deed
listen for the eerie echo

The animal dies after it suffers
The petals are melting into each other

Starving View

2008-05-20T20:03:00.003-04:00

I took the scenic route
inside your conscious mind
I played shoots and ladders
but fell to hell this time

Your lucid dream--
I watched you kill time
My starving view--
I watched you die

Melt the snow in your eyes,
My foreign land
quick gift:
falling sky

Hear the bird-calling sigh,
My white-winged angel
quick wit:
laughing high

We all visit hell sometime
We all find time to say goodbye

goodbye

Act: Smart

2008-05-20T20:00:00.002-04:00

(Can you taste the water in the flow?
Can you see white flowers in the snow?)

My tears burn blue in the stage
you maintain

your shovel digs us deeper in the
hollow blame

(Is this all you know?)

Watch me play my part.
I'm perfect.

2008-05-20T19:59:00.003-04:00

You're tall and long
lingering lie

I'll break the sky
to let in light

You're soft and strong
sick demise
I'll map heaven's door
to bring you cure

You're an animal
You're a fetus
You're innocent

In the Meantime

2008-05-20T19:53:00.003-04:00

He was forlorn and foiled
She was unkempt and wreaked of toil

They met under the bridge
(where the demons lay,
the dawn fails to break)
and talked of living life
in a place where they could live

He reached for her in the night
She wrapped his hand around her side

They dreamed of colours
they could not be
They passed pictures
they could not see

Until the day they escaped,
they escaped

Teaming

2008-05-20T19:51:00.002-04:00

All in
fingers and toes
exposed heart
bound lose

We're all quiet on the way down
We're all silence in what we found

Seek me
Seek me
I'll catch you

Seek me
Seek me
I'll let you

We're all love with a sprinkle of gold
We're all cotton torn and told

Seek me
Seek me
or what you choose

Seek me
Seek me
we won't lose

Reject Method

2008-05-20T19:47:00.002-04:00

What could have been:
you sing to me
you're ugly

I carry stars in my pocket
because the moon beams
because my eyes bleed

What could have been:
don't call to me
burn down and drown
you're old
you're ugly

I carry hearts in my pocket
because the moon lives in me
because darkness screams
when she's alone.

You are death,
to me.

Building Babies

2008-05-20T19:43:00.002-04:00

You made the sea
you sang to her
you sang to me

I gave you life
I gave you need

Rocks tumble down
burning bridges
burning existence

Is this worth it?
Is it?

All at once
I overflow and suffocate
Grow up
With all the world to hate
Sold my house
to externalise and initiate

I only need words
but I don't need yours

I only need words
I don't need yours

Was it worth it?
Was it?

Portrait of a Dying Day

2008-05-20T19:38:00.002-04:00

This is a hurricane
Though I know none

This is my dying day
Though I live on

In my picture,
I sleep on coals painted red
and stacked nails
and clawing cats
and severed ties.

In my picture,
I die
and you stay alive.

This is a disintegrating portrait
this is death in a brush stroke
this is passion in a petal
this is flame in a fetus
though I know none.

Moderation

2008-05-20T19:34:00.002-04:00

"Fold neat creases please,
in my heart,
prior to packing it away"

"I ran the mile love,
on your clock,
we exist and die today"

Five desperate breaths
exchanged between the most severed lips:
dull decision
dull exposition

Fill your boxes and go home.

2008-05-20T19:32:00.002-04:00

Sweet blood
Runs the same blue
in veins

Severed by association
Called off by confrontation
You are quiet now

I only needed a tiny smile

Sick scent
Rusts at the red crust
in vain

You are quiet now
You breed denile.

Butterfly Net

2008-05-20T19:31:00.003-04:00

Trees run over hills
filling my eyes
green tears
trees cry

You know she doesn't know love,
she eats it up.

Purple wings, freedom fly
Quiet colour revived
Silk net
Butterfly

Empty handed,
I'll fly close by.

2008-05-20T19:27:00.002-04:00

Stray cat
had a home
before you picked him up
before you lured him in with
perforated love.

Pretend and give up.

Assign blame
This is a new game
This is a game.

Pawn swam in innocence
before you made him legs.

Erosion

2008-05-20T19:25:00.003-04:00

I own rocks
with your name engraved

You chose them
when you saw my image
in stone

Pour salt on my wounds
Kill the pain
pouring rain,
pouring rain

Tonight begins a new day
Like the rocks, I'll never stray
Smile,
I'll stay

The conch shell tagged along.

Kissing the Mold

2008-05-20T19:16:00.002-04:00

I was raised by one
though two exist
Without this, would I?

I was raised by love
though God exists
Without him, would I?

Too many firecrackers
burning dim

Too many dark knights
cuddling kin

Sick rust kisses the mold
And she steals bliss

I'm searching my CD covers
for my strong opinion
(but there is none)

I've come full circle
in the end I'm dull
I've come full circle
In the end I'm dull

2008-05-13T13:19:00.002-04:00

The seasons change
the seasons change

Each one leaves
in a sweet state of disarray

I felt religion in my coffee
So I drank it down
And thought if I jumped
He'd save me

I hit the rocks
I hit the rocks

There's no one up there
There's no one anywhere

And the seasons change
the seasons change
Each one leaves
in a sick state of disarray.

She was

2008-05-13T13:16:00.001-04:00

She was a hurricane;
Wind and rain and drugs in her vein.

She was more than a girl
When they laid her to rest
The moon fell from the sky

She was more than a woman
When they beat her to death
Leaving the stars to cry

Fly by like Dreams

2008-05-13T13:13:00.002-04:00

When the trees fly by like dreams
I pack them in little boxes
And neatly place them
in the back of my mind.

Now and then
I re-arrange them

Now and then
I burn down in flame

Now and then
I re-count them

Now and then
i throw it all away.

2008-05-08T17:23:00.002-04:00

If I don't say the word
that holds the meaning
to what I mean,
what I am trying to say,
then it isn't real
Right?

What do words mean?

What's in a word?

Why can't I lose myself in a new language that only I know?

Why can't I speak the words with the meaning I assign?

Who assigned the maker of the meaning of words?

(Do you think they will think I am crazy?)
(Do you think anyone cares?)

2008-05-08T17:22:00.002-04:00

There is something in the heat of the May sunlight
That dries the tears before they even leave my eyes.

Not Time to Wake Yet

2008-05-08T17:18:00.003-04:00

It's not time to wake yet
but my eyes have interrogated the ceiling
seventeen times
back to front
back to front.

You are asleep and dreaming
sigh in your sleep and move closer
wrap my hand
around your waist
and rub your feet together.

It is only when I breathe in
the familiar smell of your skin
that I wish the sunlight
would never come.

I might explode

2008-05-08T17:10:00.003-04:00

Hello
this is it
this is where we are
and we don't belong

I called on the words
in the music
as they streamed into me
into me.
Nothing was left untouched.

There are small ideas
bubbling up
flowing over the edge
of my skull
swallowing me whole
and I might explode.

this is where we are
and we don't belong.

Sleeping Giant

2008-05-04T14:32:00.002-04:00

I sang my dreams
because Daddy said I did it well
And the years I was silent
I spoke through my eyes
and danced red-faced in the fires of hell.
And when the last one died,
I found it was heaven,
with all the pretty kittens unmoving
hanging from barbed wire magnolias
dripping what the voice said was
"the blessed blood of our savior"
but jesus never let me know
if she grabbed his hand
when she got to where she was going,
so for all I know
she's sitting with the kittens,
people devouring what she was
because they can't develop
thoughts of their own.
Well, Daddy also told me
that I was a smart girl--
not like the rest.
He told me to let them crawl
while I used their backs to rise above.
He said he would have named me Phoenix
but then I wouldn't be his
white-winged secret
with golden hair and a pink smile--
the only telling sign that I ate the apple.
But I ate the books too--
swallowed them whole
while Mommy stared, disapproving
(I caught her last glance as I slammed the door
in her face and kept moving)
Soon the words built up--
stuffing bound pages down my throat was too much.
So I licked the ink clean
and started anew.
I wrote a map of dream-treasures
and I'll follow the guide of my mind
until that one day when my dreams
turn back into the songs I wrote.

Sleeping Babies

2008-05-04T14:18:00.002-04:00

Sick children live in shame
cuddling kittens
with a world to blame
for a world of hurt
in their hands.
Bronze coins in a pocket
with a hole
singing to a choir of preachers
who hypnotise and steal your soul.
There's fire in disease and
poison in the water
but it's all in what the pretty girl
(stuck in the tree
impatiently waiting for god to save her)
and the big man thinks--
Ripe ideas are alive in melody
succumbed to a vampire media
suckling disbelief
And lovely beats emanate from
the master of lovely drums
and lonely child hands
that grew into man
and learned that they can slap--
as long as they don't bruise,
there's nothing to prove.
And the words
that belong to the hands
that live in a how-to handbook
of murder
are listed in blood
engraved in metal
engrained in the brain of patriarchy--
this is where we let our children sleep.

The Reasons to the Reasons

2008-05-04T14:12:00.002-04:00

Because I yearn to drown in my flames
Because I suffocate in the smell of your skin
Because I love to be blinded by a golden light
These are the reasons
I dance in her rose-colored fire water
and live in pretending nothing outside my window exists

Because I bite the metal and leather
that hit the ground with the slain
Because I like the way my arm shakes when I hold her above my head,
blood trickling down my vein
Because I fight a war that lives inside my outer skin and kiss
These are the answers to all the reasons I exist

Because a fool loves a follower
Because a woman loves the word
Because an animal breeds instinct
These are the reasons
for all my reasons.

2008-04-21T14:49:00.002-04:00

If I could count my chances, I'd leave at once
But it's not that this isn't enough
It's all too much, and it's all we have left

We wrapped her in silk and prayers
and laid her in the dirt to freeze and die
it's all too much, and it's all we have left

Let the new season come
we've all learned something here
and the dead and dying aren't crying for us
Anymore--We found her gun

2008-04-21T14:37:00.002-04:00

neon black night
came and slipped its silk fingers
over me
over me
and no one cares that
I'm the only one who can see

neon black kiss
you strangle my breaths
closing down
closing up
and we are all suffocating
but I'm the only one who falls into the sea

this could have been legendary
but no one could ever compare
this could have been all you needed
but no one could ever reach you there

neon black love
you're poisoning my light
darkness
darkness
like to play in the stream
but I'm the only one who can see

2008-03-28T12:25:00.002-04:00

Remember that one summer day when we drove down the unused road behind dad's factory to play in the fields and pick pussy-willows? Remember the way the sunlight streamed through the car windows, rolled all the way down, and we turned the volume on the radio up as far as it would go. Stevie Nicks was booming through the speakers, but we left her voice behind as you drove on. My child-skin soaked up the melody and the heat from the sky and the moment, as though for a fraction of a second, my young mind knew this was one of the only things that mattered. "This is all there is."

dealt out

2008-03-26T14:58:00.002-04:00

you told me you wanted to be dealt out
of this round--
I'm sorry that I could let you down
I have a checklist and a
careful selection process concerning
what I digest
And the consequences are murdering me tonight

we're on the ride now--
the door's closed and the next stop's not or miles
I'm sick of suffocating
choking on the same stale air
for years
And there's nothing we can do now but
get a little bit higher and cough in the clouds

Nothing Will Ever Matter More Than It Does Right Now

2008-03-23T15:27:00.003-04:00

A then-blind nova, of sorts
was soaring through my head
when I first met you.
Dear God, Dear Abby,
I might really die this time!--
but none of it matters
if I'm not pleasing them,
and truly, I'm not dying to appease 'em.

So cut me with the most painful blade you own
and I'll fall waist-deep sideways into disbelief
until you disown me
and we'll smile as we sing
the story of a dead person.

Death and Defeat and Cobwebs

2008-03-07T12:59:00.002-05:00

I was peeling the pieces of paper apart and shredding them with my teeth long before the darkness descended on my fantasy village. But no one cared to take notice until I turned blue with lack of fear, greed, envy and oxygen--the average American's basic necessities. I still have the exact scene in my mind too--it lives there among the death and defeat and cobwebs. You and I were running circles around each other. We floated freely in disconnected communication waves until you said you wanted to attempt a high jump to the next level, and it was in my hesitation that lasted a fraction of a second, a small sigh that wasn't powerful enough to make a leaf flutter, that you found contempt and reason enough to brush the secrets filled with love, loss and white powder off your hands and walk away. You found it so easy. I thought you were so cold.

I would have been willing to give up everything else, even my right arm, for you to forget that one condemned breath, and I told you that the night you came to throw your stray socks and blank photographs into an empty black trash bag. "Be careful," was your only reply.
Now, when I lie down and close my eyes and let you and I be the characters in the play in my mind, the most interesting part is that I can see my face. The camera that follows my thoughts didn’t follow you. I can see my very expression, every line forming on my face, every glint of horror and waste that survived and weaved itself within the fading iris in my eyes.

But none of this matters anymore. It doesn’t matter that the exact shape of your lips is fading from my memories. And it doesn’t matter that I have never cried because the gods are dripping acid into my eyes to dry my tears. It doesn’t matter that there are no gods, only emotion and instinct, and I never developed a knack for either one.