Tonight, I am afraid to sleep; for fear I will sink too deep. Past the mangled red trees, where reason can’t reach, and into that place where the lost ones weep. Wail. Mourn out loud of wisdom stolen in foolish folly or worse; a second of disconnected dispassion. Hell. The carcass that still lives. The … More Dreaming of Hell
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
Thin hairline fractures, that lay submerged in anger; long enough that they swelled into gaping holes. To go over them, would be like navigating the latitude, and the longitute and the gravity and the declination of something already dead. Our past lay dissected on an autopsy table. The rib cage of what was exposed for … More Suck it Up.
My eyes are as dry as my Whiskey glass. My chest is as hollow as the days gone past. My lips smile red, and my words lull you to sleep. But you are failing to see the secrets I keep. The lullaby i whisper, and the bows that I tie. The gift of sweetness, right … More ‘Cept When There is No Blood
She fell at the gate, her name rusted over above the words ‘angels once stood proud here.’ Somewhere between the farewell handshake, and the tracks where a bookie accepted her halo as a down payment, she more than just her grace.
In response to: Wet Shore A copper key hangs from a hook beside my bed. I read you, when that key has a quiet conversation with the jelly fish fearing ocean fearing bear trainer in side me. But you know, that I would stride into that water to drag you out of it. You know … More I Dont Surf. ( For J )
Blasé, you are, over the puncture wound you left behind, just above the heart, just off center. Your surprise at my inertia. The delay in emotion. The bending of heat waves. In knee jerk anger. Smug to think that because you were the architect of my mausoleum, that somehow you could offer me your veins … More Refraction
I hate people. I really fucken hate them. If there is money to be made, it will be made. Even if it means children, women, poverty stricken families are bled that little bit extra. It will happen. Even if it means wiping out entire habitats and destroying animals. Force feeding animals. Not feeding them. … … More I Hate.
I hunted for you, in amongst all the garbage. You were determined to stay safe, in the familiar decay of the rotting piles of people- equally as bent on holding you down. Lies, flawless. You became the victim with such conviction. I applaud you. I wish you well, in your cardboard hell. I won’t be … More I Don’t Know You