caged…

not that I seek
yet rather qued
found
I wander towards 
the cages edge
vision not impaired
see clearly through 
the bars of what is
Pacing
tigress of me…
isolated 
untouched
warring

a waterfall of words…and words spread amongst my ground and grow

Pay attention
pay attention screams
my intuition

soil dry
my soul
long have I 
neglected tilling
too busy trying 
to grow from stone
failing on the outskirt 
I have forgotten
the seeds within
growing things will crack open
spring forth life
from within
uprooting earth 
layering the ground 
not without water,
not without light
having never doubt
it’s  grand design 
flower and bloom 
feed & cover the world 
I neglected my soil
my soul I am unforgivable 
forgetting to love you 
left forgotten
untilled
you have only been alone
toiling in the dark
this mind has blocked your sun
and the water of tears only
falls to my pillow 
no more are you
in the shadows
darkened by neglect

dead in weeds 
they can’t feed you
but I can
sweet water can ammend 
adjust postion 
transition
into garden
bee to kiss bloom
to feed
circle our our world 
and others

sweet death of a rose…

May death be sweet
like that of a dying rose
past her prime
when molecular structure is chaos
and her heart only knows
to fold and shut in

each petal breaks apart from stem
her last vein severed
though her fragrance lingers
her perfume long lay breathing

shall you watch her 
release her frame
this life inside her aching 
to sustain her worth
and to what moment 
does she finally herald
love, let go…
(don’t…not yet)

May her death be sweet
inhale her one last time
achingly embrace her
beautiful loss in goodbye 
yet do not not leave her 
unattended in her decay 
wondering the reason
of her bloom
 

ice cream not my first choice…

Sometimes
you need 
an escape
such as 
mind-blowing 
sex
or Thai food
or even
something simple
like a cup of 
jamocha almond 
fudge ice cream…

had to settle 
for the latter

was not  
my first choice

this stranger loves…

I fall in love
every time I hear 
a vulnerable heart
one unafraid to weep 
expose fragility 
waning and shattered
yet wrapped 
in a mendable form
I fall in love everyday
a heart designed to feel
every rough edge
to ease the weariness of another
letting my rhythm lace each rip
drop a solitary tear to renew
if only hearts ever knew
this stranger does love…

  

9:46 am confession…just another useless waterfall

I stand here questioning
every word of my slient voice
written to the heart of pages

what if my mouth is permanently numb
And I can’t skin you with my tongue

I claim to have this capacity to love
But what if it’s a lie? 
What if I am a lie?
What if I am not real ?
Am I only pretend?
just a fucked up aberration 
or typicality 
unwanted middle aged drab
aging perfumed water
my head spins straight to my core
my heart breaks every minute
in every beat
62 this last minute
splits in two chambers
or eight
Or 64
Unmeasurable hairline fractures

a two headed monster 
what if its always been the dominate Me 
repeated play of hurtful things

I keep seeking self torture
so very little recovery anyway 
so just hurt me
and hurt 
And hurt 
me over again 

never really have I been loved
a proper beautiful thing
only golden threads turn to rust
crushed in hands of would be lovers

Am I this unfeeling dumb bitch 
undeserving
sick and twisted
for my indiscretions   
All those years ago
weak and fettered 
lost girl 
finding and thinking
love between her thighs

how have I become this nothing of force 
just shattered mess of dark red glass
picking up droplets from the dirt
sandy grit having changed my shape 
my edges unable to fit together

incapable blend
sweet wicked berry juice
inproper fraction sips
incomplete whole

what actions
measures have I taken
keep swallowing
to seek and self destroy

Please don’t do it 
don’t destroy
I beg 
I beg 
my pauper cries out
A beggar for something
not ever certain
anymore

I am only good to avoid
as I hold stick glue
trying adhere substance to water

everything of my being
is really unremarkable 
for their absence tells me so

this dark breath sighs
and life I let run over me 
surrender 
let it interpret my outcome

take me
notice or not
numb or too emotional 
love or hate
what am I anyway
but a twitch easily flicked away
a decayed rose 
green thorn inbetween 
third and fourth rib
perhaps fire dying 
and water stilling
try to burn to rise
fail to drown to feel

everything
I am or not
as ever uncertain

yet even more so now
split and splayed 
fileted 
before
you

Music mood…

not of nothingness… something of a more

I wanted
to delete it
to not write of it
to sweep the 
dirty little scraps
underneath 
bury the layers
poor the concrete
paint pretty chalk drawings
to distract from the truth
but the truth
No one wants to know it
But it is here
in the air
walk through 
with your senses turned off
do as you must 
there’s something 
I hate to admit
something I’m
unable to grasp…

how is it 
I am still here
framed 
existing 
breathing warm air
laying down almost every 
fractured piece of me
and yet 
continously forgotten
awashed and abashed 
in nothingness

I am not a ghost
not of nothingness 
I am something
something of a more
entirely 
humanly
mortally 
fatally
feminine 
 
M

impossble to grow new skin…the shadows know

I kept scrubbing to strip
myself into new skin
hard as I tried to reclaim
the skin I’m dying for
I still woke up me…

A tired unwanted woman…
(inserting self-hatred things here…) 

I tried to baptized
my skin in the bath
to renew 
refresh
recall 
recalibrate
yet it remained 
as it has been 
the ruination of a once
wanted beauty
and slowly I slip
into the darkness
of shadows
where I search for my 
cold breathe
letting me know
I still breathe

in the middle of the work day…

She wore the kind of exterior, that spoke of exhaustion. Homesick shadowed underneath her eyes as if home seem impossibly far away.  Her sigh was slow and confused; holding secret pleas for peace and quiet. I wanted to grab her hand as she spoke, her voice a little shaky as if she could just collapse right there on thefloor and sleep for a year. I wanted to tell her the time of rest was near…wrap my arm around her shoulders, hold her up for little awhile. Tiredness being the culprit forming their slump. Heavy was her walk, grabbing her hip as if to will it forward for one more trip into his room. He was abrupt and demanding. Certaintly his attempt to hold on to control as his body was breaking down. She was the epitome of gentle social grace, under the pressure of his inconsiderate manner and poor treatment of others trying to help. My mind understood his frustration of age slowing him, perhaps his ego a little wounded relying on such feminity to aid him in his recovery, yet my heart couldnt help but ache for her; the relentless caregiver, grand gesture of devotion of a wife, to swallow her pain behind a smile. As I watched her walk out the door, in the middle of my work day, I think i saw her walk a little straighter and a little faster as the sunlight graced her face. I understand the restorative power of its warmth. I imagined as she slipped between the sheets on her side of the bed tonight she would remember the warmth of the sun and feel for a fraction of moment…warmth of peace spread across her chest.