love language
let us linger in this quiet.
in this moment of night
when the candle goes out,
after the fall of august
twilight and mantis-song.
if you face me,
with both our heads on the pillow
and our hearts in the space between,
i will whisper
that i hate daffodils and sundays
and waiting
and love, more than
anything else.
would you forgive me
if i lied to you?
no one ever taught me
how to love without bruising.
i want you to reach fish-hooks
down my throat
and drag love out of me in the dark.
in this silence, i must be taught
how to feel your heartbeat.
you won’t hear mine, but
in this held breath, instead,
you might hear
the language of my bones,
the words carved along the tattoo
of blue veins
running down my arms
to my wrists
from my lonesome heart.
Between Us
The breath responds with no use of syllables, in a space
Where we meet in the basics of growth
A plain of school yard turf, surrounded in brush,
quest to find the fencing, in the shuffling leaves,
Promising if I found that blood brain barrier
The whisper would come but,
Between us, infinity is in a five minute walk.
What could be more honest then knees hitting earth
Than slumping over in that space that does not abide space laws
Giving into the root. The aphid finds
Worthiness by encasing in honeydew
a body so it may sprout, the very essence of reaching.
Yellow in the chin, blue in the ears, red dribbling,
From mouth to bud in anthesis, catching watery air,
fuller than any of us ever will be.
Popping ears, dribbling mouths, sighing eyes,
While I wait for words that mean the same,
Tracking down the freeze in the breeze,
Growing from a second spine that tries to breach beyond
The tangle bound infinity walk.
I love you,
Blown back around, always goes into
the yellow, the blue, the red
The blood, the ears, the honeydew,
The branching that will never reach
The water in the air, the promised fencing,
implying escape doesn’t really exist
Between us. Infinity is in a five minute walk.
Out Of Control
I can’t–I can’t stop, can’t slow down, they’ll catch me, I can’t let them catch me,
I’m a shark, moving quickly, never stopping,
the crew could find me, can’t let them–I won’t let them find me
radio is blasting Brighton Rock, ears are ringing always,
zipping like a pinball out of the city, steadying my breath, mind racing at 140 mph,
hiding from the cops, the crew, the guilt– get it together, eyes on the road, focus
Buddy went off the deep end after Darling died, it was her choice but he flipped, now he wants my head,
shifting into next gear, cruising on Route 20, just like we planned
speeding over the highway like a cheetah on the run, I won’t stop–can’t stop,
can’t slow down, if they catch me, they’ll kill me, I can’t let them kill me
I killed Bats, he deserved it, he was yelling at me, and Buddy was bidding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike,
I just stepped on the gas like I always do,
impaled Bats through the windshield, dead in the passenger seat,
immediate screaming from the two in back, Buddy and Darling–not pleased,
blood splatter coats the inside of the car we hijacked, the car we left him in,
his nightmares laid to rest, those demons he had between his ears, behind his eyes, those voices he talked to, his head full of fury, trying to get us killed with his shoot-first-questions-later mindset
I know something about demons, except mine aren’t between my ears, they are my ears, a constant ringing reminder of what’s been lost Mom, dad, innocence, what more I have to lose my hearing, my pride, my freedom, my love
they won’t take it from me, not today, not ever, I won’t slow down, I won’t let them catch me if they catch me, they’ll kill me, I can’t let them kill me,
I can’t put this many pieces back together, I’ll just keep driving, keep speeding, keep running, keep dodging, until it does finally catch up to me,
a siren echos in my constantly singing ears, lights in the rearview mirror, so many flashing lights, where did they come from, how’d they find me,
I can’t–I can’t stop, can’t slow down, they’ll catch me, I can’t let them catch me,
I’m in my last gear, there’s nowhere else to turn, no other exits to take, only way out is through, I won’t stop–can’t stop, can’t slow down if they catch me, they’ll kill me, I can’t let them kil—
CRASH
Weekly Chores
Each week greets me as a list of chores,
the stains of yesterday now resurrected
and primed to start our cycle anew.
I begin, tasks in hand, ready at last.
The stains of yesterday, resurrected,
have been cleansed from seven outfits, now washed, after
I began my laundry, detergent in hand. Ready at last,
I fold them, prepared to dirty them again. Dust,
has been cleansed from seven surfaces, now elsewhere. After
I cleaned the stains of the world
I fold my hands, ready to dirty them again; dust
always lays atop its predecessor’s deathbed.
I cleaned. The stains of the world now
washed away on hands and dishes alike. Searing water
always lays atop the deathbed it creates,
dish soap showing the path to salvation.
Junk is washed away by my hands, searing guilt
burns as messes are shoved into hiding, and
air freshener makes me worthy of the path to salvation.
A room clean on the surface, stains lurking beneath beds.
Burns are born as memories are shoved into bins. And
with the week now thrown away, its residue remains beneath my nails.
A world clean on the surface, sin lurking beneath it—
locked away in bins and bags.
With a holiday now thrown my way, its residue remains beneath my skin,
reminding me of the decorations in the attic,
locked away in bins and bags.
Ornaments now covering each surface promise belonging.
Home now worthy, restocking comes last,
each week greeting me last on my list of chores.
One day there will be no backups to refill with.
Anxious for that rapture, I am primed to start my cycle anew.
repentance
for milk thistle
once again i fear
i have ruined you
pretty thing
my love rots
drowns sours poisons withers
a scourge, a plague
locusts, flood, fire and brimstone
i don’t mean to destroy
what i touch
your silken softness
in my cursed barbwire palms
i’m sorry, milk thistle
i promise i’ll be gentle
i promise i’ll be good
won’t you be my lazarus
just one more time?
Care
What I gave without a 2nd, 3rd, or 4th thought. I chose you
Because there was deep love at the core. My core.
Every chakra was centered on how I took care of my Lovie.
Crown to root.
When I strayed from my intuition, it’s that care that pushed me through.
When adverse, I broke past pain. My pain because you did it for me
From my blood or through blood, sweat, and tears. Oh tears I held in
the way I held in my secrets.
Like the secret that your love was failing,
unable to be enough.
It was breaking me from my roots, killing my branches faster each day
but I cared.
I cared about the feelings of bliss.
The ones that peeked through our steadily dark nights.
I cared about the aid you gave me when sick,
thinking no one else would give as much.
One touch and I felt healed.
It wasn’t until you recognized that your love was failing too,
that you told me you could care no longer
about how I felt, who I saw, what I did.
I listened because I cared and held it together for us both.
The difference is
when you stopped caring,
you became selfish
using the care I had for sin.
Greed, theft, lust.
You did them all.
I knew it was time that I stopped caring for you,
though when I tried
you returned
and gave me that one touch,
The one I thought was healing.
So again, I cared.
As my chakras became imbalanced
giving my lonely, dark nights no sleep
my blood, sweat, and tears. Oh tears wouldn’t leave me
as I wished for one more touch to care for.
love language
let us linger in this quiet.
in this moment of night
when the candle goes out,
after the fall of august
twilight and mantis-song.
if you face me,
with both our heads on the pillow
and our hearts in the space between,
i will whisper
that i hate daffodils and sundays
and waiting
and love, more than
anything else.
would you forgive me
if i lied to you?
no one ever taught me
how to love without bruising.
i want you to reach fish-hooks
down my throat
and drag love out of me in the dark.
in this silence, i must be taught
how to feel your heartbeat.
you won’t hear mine, but
in this held breath, instead,
you might hear
the language of my bones,
the words carved along the tattoo
of blue veins
running down my arms
to my wrists
from my lonesome heart.
Between Us
The breath responds with no use of syllables, in a space
Where we meet in the basics of growth
A plain of school yard turf, surrounded in brush,
quest to find the fencing, in the shuffling leaves,
Promising if I found that blood brain barrier
The whisper would come but,
Between us, infinity is in a five minute walk.
What could be more honest then knees hitting earth
Than slumping over in that space that does not abide space laws
Giving into the root. The aphid finds
Worthiness by encasing in honeydew
a body so it may sprout, the very essence of reaching.
Yellow in the chin, blue in the ears, red dribbling,
From mouth to bud in anthesis, catching watery air,
fuller than any of us ever will be.
Popping ears, dribbling mouths, sighing eyes,
While I wait for words that mean the same,
Tracking down the freeze in the breeze,
Growing from a second spine that tries to breach beyond
The tangle bound infinity walk.
I love you,
Blown back around, always goes into
the yellow, the blue, the red
The blood, the ears, the honeydew,
The branching that will never reach
The water in the air, the promised fencing,
implying escape doesn’t really exist
Between us. Infinity is in a five minute walk.
Out Of Control
I can’t–I can’t stop, can’t slow down, they’ll catch me, I can’t let them catch me,
I’m a shark, moving quickly, never stopping,
the crew could find me, can’t let them–I won’t let them find me
radio is blasting Brighton Rock, ears are ringing always,
zipping like a pinball out of the city, steadying my breath, mind racing at 140 mph,
hiding from the cops, the crew, the guilt– get it together, eyes on the road, focus
Buddy went off the deep end after Darling died, it was her choice but he flipped, now he wants my head,
shifting into next gear, cruising on Route 20, just like we planned
speeding over the highway like a cheetah on the run, I won’t stop–can’t stop,
can’t slow down, if they catch me, they’ll kill me, I can’t let them kill me
I killed Bats, he deserved it, he was yelling at me, and Buddy was bidding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike,
I just stepped on the gas like I always do,
impaled Bats through the windshield, dead in the passenger seat,
immediate screaming from the two in back, Buddy and Darling–not pleased,
blood splatter coats the inside of the car we hijacked, the car we left him in,
his nightmares laid to rest, those demons he had between his ears, behind his eyes, those voices he talked to, his head full of fury, trying to get us killed with his shoot-first-questions-later mindset
I know something about demons, except mine aren’t between my ears, they are my ears, a constant ringing reminder of what’s been lost Mom, dad, innocence, what more I have to lose my hearing, my pride, my freedom, my love
they won’t take it from me, not today, not ever, I won’t slow down, I won’t let them catch me if they catch me, they’ll kill me, I can’t let them kill me,
I can’t put this many pieces back together, I’ll just keep driving, keep speeding, keep running, keep dodging, until it does finally catch up to me,
a siren echos in my constantly singing ears, lights in the rearview mirror, so many flashing lights, where did they come from, how’d they find me,
I can’t–I can’t stop, can’t slow down, they’ll catch me, I can’t let them catch me,
I’m in my last gear, there’s nowhere else to turn, no other exits to take, only way out is through, I won’t stop–can’t stop, can’t slow down if they catch me, they’ll kill me, I can’t let them kil—
CRASH
Weekly Chores
Each week greets me as a list of chores,
the stains of yesterday now resurrected
and primed to start our cycle anew.
I begin, tasks in hand, ready at last.
The stains of yesterday, resurrected,
have been cleansed from seven outfits, now washed, after
I began my laundry, detergent in hand. Ready at last,
I fold them, prepared to dirty them again. Dust,
has been cleansed from seven surfaces, now elsewhere. After
I cleaned the stains of the world
I fold my hands, ready to dirty them again; dust
always lays atop its predecessor’s deathbed.
I cleaned. The stains of the world now
washed away on hands and dishes alike. Searing water
always lays atop the deathbed it creates,
dish soap showing the path to salvation.
Junk is washed away by my hands, searing guilt
burns as messes are shoved into hiding, and
air freshener makes me worthy of the path to salvation.
A room clean on the surface, stains lurking beneath beds.
Burns are born as memories are shoved into bins. And
with the week now thrown away, its residue remains beneath my nails.
A world clean on the surface, sin lurking beneath it—
locked away in bins and bags.
With a holiday now thrown my way, its residue remains beneath my skin,
reminding me of the decorations in the attic,
locked away in bins and bags.
Ornaments now covering each surface promise belonging.
Home now worthy, restocking comes last,
each week greeting me last on my list of chores.
One day there will be no backups to refill with.
Anxious for that rapture, I am primed to start my cycle anew.
repentance
for milk thistle
once again i fear
i have ruined you
pretty thing
my love rots
drowns sours poisons withers
a scourge, a plague
locusts, flood, fire and brimstone
i don’t mean to destroy
what i touch
your silken softness
in my cursed barbwire palms
i’m sorry, milk thistle
i promise i’ll be gentle
i promise i’ll be good
won’t you be my lazarus
just one more time?
Care
What I gave without a 2nd, 3rd, or 4th thought. I chose you
Because there was deep love at the core. My core.
Every chakra was centered on how I took care of my Lovie.
Crown to root.
When I strayed from my intuition, it’s that care that pushed me through.
When adverse, I broke past pain. My pain because you did it for me
From my blood or through blood, sweat, and tears. Oh tears I held in
the way I held in my secrets.
Like the secret that your love was failing,
unable to be enough.
It was breaking me from my roots, killing my branches faster each day
but I cared.
I cared about the feelings of bliss.
The ones that peeked through our steadily dark nights.
I cared about the aid you gave me when sick,
thinking no one else would give as much.
One touch and I felt healed.
It wasn’t until you recognized that your love was failing too,
that you told me you could care no longer
about how I felt, who I saw, what I did.
I listened because I cared and held it together for us both.
The difference is
when you stopped caring,
you became selfish
using the care I had for sin.
Greed, theft, lust.
You did them all.
I knew it was time that I stopped caring for you,
though when I tried
you returned
and gave me that one touch,
The one I thought was healing.
So again, I cared.
As my chakras became imbalanced
giving my lonely, dark nights no sleep
my blood, sweat, and tears. Oh tears wouldn’t leave me
as I wished for one more touch to care for.