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
I wrapped her, in red ribbon. I breathed against her skin, and heard her thoughts crashing against the inside of my skull, like bones clicking when stretched too far. She ached. Though I didn’t know why. Nor could I ask. Not yet. Her eyes changed colour with each mechanical snap of the lens. A flash … More She Bled Red Wine
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 thought back over the last few years of my sobriety, on the friendships I have had and what sparked them, or what brought those friendships crashing down. It is safe to say that even as a small girl, any interaction I had with a fellow school mate, or anyone who I deemed a … More Broken Things. Awesome.
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?
Thank you to those who follow me here. Poetry is a huge part of my ‘release’ when my brain feels like a 50 car pile up instead or a squealing train. I know I could do both here, but I wanted to separate the madness, from the effort it takes to slow myself down to … More Madness vs Grammar
I have ligature marks on my ankles, from the rope that I use every day. I fasten the weights of observed pain and of of expected guilt, of spoken sorrow, and of your mournful shame to my dulled and tired body, and I climb into the water again. I don’t want to drown. I don’t … More Manotonous
So I have spent most of this week – for real – trying to figure out if you (my dear J) are more like the hot green chick who kicks ass, or the small impulsive fox who has some serious anger issues in Guardians of the Galaxy. I have watched the movie several times with … More My Reflexes are too Fast. I will Catch it.