On a hill where wars were once waged, sits a willow that weeps when it rains. It calls to the gods with each blow through the sky; earthed in the pasts remains. The faces and sounds and bloodied grounds; a twisted carnival of shame; hard to breathe even harder to believe that the sunshine isn’t … More Move it, Sunshine.
In the aftermath of the tippled boxes come undone; ribbons untied, and words scraped from corners of a pale skinned mind, unrefined; do I say I am sorry? When I was just a girl, in dresses printed in sunshine and sewn together with trust, I learned that words mean very little. Unless, they cause an … More Boxes Undone
I have the backbone for war, for blood soaked skin, hair soaked in red victory. Eyes bright green, manic with the dance of songs written before my time. My stomach is knotted at the thought of what lies ahead. So many broken people, who will effectively have to lay their swords down and trust me. … More Incoming, Oh YES!
Forget me knot, the tangled mess that interrupts. The silence that pushes back. The wordless forgiveness in the slack. The humanity in the tunnel vision. The peace in the quietness in the monotony of level headed dispassion. I forgot how to love, today. Was more of triggered mental delay; a test in compassion. On how … More Empty
I have always mocked my brothers for their mushy well put together strings of loving almost song like things they say to their wives and girlfriends while in my company. On some occasions I will pretend to need to wind down a window to throw up. They use affectionate names, and when in each others … More How Not to Write a Love Poem
Some days, I spend the whole day feeling like as I walk, as I move, I leave behind a slight heat signature. A trace. Evidence that I was there. Like my mind is bleeding. Like my dreams and the bad things in them have found a way to come out. I miss time. Time misses … More Get it Right
My pistol is holstered, my knives tucked away. My neck exposed. My fists unwrapped; my mind hidden behind niceties and tea and cake. You have hidden your weapons. Your tongue speaks lies, and your eyes speak truth. You wage war just by being here.
I watched the words, drip over your swollen lips like glass. Cutting you and the tiny fragments glistening in the light, as they got caught in my clothes. You keeled over clutching your gut, as though each sharp sentence severed your insides on its way out, causing internal bleeding, and although I was the intended … More Why Don’t You Love Me?
So, I am sitting at a pub type place with my brother and his wife a few weeks ago, and we get to talking about my drunken days. Drinking was a problem for me long before drugs were. I attended my first AA meeting before my 21st birthday – under duress, but still. He recounted … More A Brother’s Version
I have one demand, one single ask, and I beg – that you grant me this. Forget me. Please.