collapse

the trees climbed over our heads.

their thin fingers combed through

stars and clasped the night,

pulling it over our eyes.

we sat inside the walls we'd created

and devilish leaks sprang through them.

the vast ocean behind them crowed;

our dam creaked under the weight of

all we'd ignored.

we braced ourselves against the

threat of collapse and

splayed our fingers until

they were strangers.

crumbs of soil sketched masterpieces

onto our skin.

we grounded ourselves and

our roots intertwined,

but we could not hold out any longer

and floods of denial rushed around us.

ruthless waters swept the mud from

our stems and dragged us away.

whipped by watery demons,

we were beaten by

fragments of the wall we had built--

the wall we had broken.

dunes

we watched dolphins glide through
invisible hoops as we scattered champagne corks
on the shore, watching the sand drink in
deep hues of night.

the clouds inhaled the ocean and spoke
calm winds across our bare shoulders.
we savored the salty air and
sipped from plastic cups.

we painted the shore with sprinkles of chardonnay,
dancing wildly to the song of tomorrow.
stop-motion droplets plotted our future on an
endless canvas.

the dusk dethroned us as we rolled down the dunes,
sand nipping at our summer skin.
we ran in crooked ranks until we felt cold water
snapping at our ankles.

the breeze laughed and echoed our song
as we shouted melodies to the sedated waves.
deep crescendos crashed around us,
only to fade and leave us with a whisper.

the seagulls forced the moon into the hungry ocean,
their morning songs waking our quiet sea.
we watched strands of sunrise surf on the wind
and prayed for night as we turned away.

rescue

i once sailed a furious sea
with just a broken compass at my side.
its warped glass window revealed
nothing but refracted arrows
pointing to foreign horizons.
i collided with an angry moon
whose fingers tugged the tide
into a puppet's waltz.
dripping with disdain,
i cast away the compass.

i crossed the growling ocean
with no light to shine on my salty waters.
the darkness drank in gallons of waves
but only thirsted for more and
soon drained the sea.
i collided with the sleeping coral
whose agitated claws
shattered the ship's exterior.
torn with grief,
i cast away the darkness.

the tall ghost of a lighthouse
ignited a flame in its belly.
a solid beam of hope
resounded and enveloped my
shivering body.
weary feet picked over crevices
as i followed the light.
i stumbled once but
you grabbed my filthy hands
and led me to dry shore.

you gathered up shrapnel and
pieced the ship together.
my broken compass surfaced
and pointed at you.
my darkness was banished to far coves
with a hint of your smile.

we gripped the wheel and
steered away from the rocks.

in excelsis

sweet child.
knowing not why you were chosen,
knowing only a faint dream's command.
but cradled by gracious love,
you made no protest.
one cry of rebellion
and angels could have stolen this precious gift.
the child nestled into your embrace
as you wailed in the stable that night.

sweet child.
tracing the holes in his open hands.
tears are frozen in your eyes.
his own mother, yet
you made no protest.
one shout of demur
and angels could have snatched him down.
the child lay limp in your bloodstained hands
as you wailed in agony that night.

sweet child.
knowing not left from right,
mother from father.
but knowing your changeless fate,
you made no protest.
one shiver of your writhing body
and angels could have stolen your new breath.
the grace was etched into your side
as you wailed in the stable that night.

loveletter

he trips in too-big rain boots
and he splats into sludgy mud.

he writes
but his storms blur penned thoughts and dye his hands.

he had an old telescope
but it shattered when he found his moon has broken.

he makes his own meals
but they spill down his front.

he plays alone on frisky winds
but finds twigs in his hair.

he discovered a time bomb
but didn't let go soon enough.


he's a mess.


he slips on craggy surfaces
but he grasps my hand before he falls.

he rights
but always makes absolutely sure i believe him.

he had an old telescope
but he realized it's better to see it all with both eyes.

he feasts on extra meatballs
and he slurps his noodles.

he dances alone on summer breezes
but he steers me to laughter.

he explodes from time to time
but he is careful to pick the shrapnel from my veins.


he's a mess...


but he's my mess.

bane

venom seeps through your
sallow skin and soils
the night around you;
you brush against your daydreams
but they recoil and shrivel
at your septic touch.

pools of caustic misery
lie stagnant in your palms,
hugging calloused valleys:
you lust for happiness
but it cringes at your coarse touch
and flees your corrosive grip.

a quicksilver smile
cools on your bloodless lips
and vapor invades your fading grin;
lethal fragility paints your
blanched interior a weak vermilion
and you shrink to toxic dust.

you were born to soar on the
broad wings of triumph,
but ferocious turbulence
has thrust you through the fog
and into the clutches of
what you longed to avoid.

wraith

toxic dreams spilled out of
your mouth and
whitewashed the night-
they rose and curled into
thin phantoms.

you watched their silhouettes
dance behind clouds-
the mask you'd fashioned with
their shadows faded to
reveal your ashen face.

the ghosts pivoted on
perilous heels and
we watched them collide
with menacing foes
but they waltzed into
transparent oblivion.

your spirit rode pernicious breaths of
the expiring dancers you'd freed;
i watched as your features blurred
with the night.

soft electric spirals enraptured you
and roaring currents recounted
your ruin.

your future shorted out
in your swelling desperation.

birthday wishes

i wish you were here.
i wish i'd see you this morning and
hug the fluffies right outta you.
i wish i could give you your presents today.
[insert bad "presence" pun]

happy birthday to you.
happy birthday to you.
happy birthday, love,
happy birthday to you.

*cake*

freeway requiem

autopilot has led me astray.

i cannot be sure where i took the
wrong turn.

is there a shortcut to the right road?

hydroplaning on uncertainty.

i pass by wide blinking eyes
pleading for traffic to stop and take notice.

spiked roadblocks tell of the wrong lanes i've entered.
they have lanced my tires and forced me to
just breathe.

turn left?
turn right?
continue straight?

autopilot has led me astray.

waiting room

i wait on a threadbare cushion
that creaks with every nervous shift

i wait for the good news
and the bad news

i wait for monotone explanations
of the dull pitch echoing in my mind

i wait for the void walls
to soothe me with quiet comfort

i wait for life
to call me in for the results

i wait for the wait
to end.

muscle memory

clutching yellowed escape plans
as you remain on this familiar course.
exhausting strides over chasms
strain your tendons and you limp.

snarling riptides seize your pride
and you blindly swipe at the thief.
reflexive defense imprisons you
and you are alone in your emptiness.

rusty gears creak in mundane rituals that
steer your mind through dizzying rotations.
vapid connections break in the slightest storm
and you are swept away, unattached.

you no longer feel the weights gripping your feet
and you tread along with nobody at your side.
muscle memory fuels your expiring flame
and you soundlessly dim to a mere
recollection.

catacomb

writhing larvae nestle
in fetid coves of
dangling flesh.

gnarled roots rupture
spoiled organs and
inhale bile.

staccato raindrops puncture
capsized soil and
flood deflated lungs.

fleeting

strands of dusk
gush from craters and
enrich the soil.

as they graze my cheek,
i wish to catch a beam
to drift through the sky
to settle in your arms.

longing to ride moonbeams
to sail on rocking seas
to

concrete fog
conceals my dreams and
sorrow finds refuge in my core.

drown

immersed in thoughts of you.

do you see the sunset and
hope your lasso will
capture the moon and
pull you from your raging sea?

your lasso is
soiled by faded moon
from previous attempts
to fly.
the fibers unravel
and slip from your grasp--
burning failure stings your skin.

you once pulled the moon close,
but the tide of
your ocean
overthrew you
and you sank.

sinister

filmy shadows frolic
with new darkness.
feeble strands of
dying sun
sift through branches
and dusk settles
onto my skin.

dashes of cloud
slice the moon and
flecks of atmosphere
shape a neon sky.

ribbons of light are
snipped from a spool
to tease the dry ground
with whispers of
relief.

a halo of filth
spirals around the moon and
casts its glare onto
the earth.

your dark

but i cannot let you
plummet to the bottom
of your dark.
your spine will shatter
and bone shrapnel
will illuminate your
face in red.

but i cannot let go
to save myself from
your dark.
your bright
outshines my silver linings
and your darkest
is still you.

their

noise erodes the walls of
our decaying Eden.

we covered our ears
and searched for the soothing tide
of our secret oceans

but the clamor of
their rusty swords drummed against
our corrupted hearts.

we bound our barricades
with shackles forged by
our sinning hands

but the fire in their throats
spouted from their mouths
and melted our shields.

we searched for shelter and
found the tree rooted
between our laced fingers

but the branches were charred
and emaciated corpses,
lifeless in our palms.

shouting flames cackle
at our demise, and we
fade to ashes.

fragment

stars explode
behind growling masses.
sheds of desperation
form a harsh exterior.

bloodshot eyes search
the west horizon
frantically
for traces of an
unfamiliar sunset.

warped planks creak
beneath your weighted feet.
rocking on
unstable waves.

the moon melts in your palm.
silvery tears escape from
between your fingers and
pale your skin.

tinted monsters scrape
the side of your vessel.
threatening murmurs
collide against you,
enrapture you
with tantalizing whispers
of relief.

salty winds tangle
your hair.
gravity clings to the corners of
your mouth.

tragic facade drips down your cheeks
in tributaries of black.
tapering
staining.

metallic screams escape and
diffuse
above your swallowed body.
rupture at the surface.
silence.

ship splinters
burrow into your skin.
infecting.

twinge

your name ricochets
off my tongue,
bounces from
ancient brick to brick
down the
crumbling maze
in my heart.

crackling projections of
laughter play and
skip with the shadows
as my mind gives in
and i fade into you.

the dull ache of
missing you
daily re-sharpens against my soul,
tearing me to ribbons.

blueprints of
future plans
curl on themselves
even after we unroll them.

thoughts of you
invade my bloodstream
through a pinhole.
traveling fast,
re-circulating until
the last breath
is shoved from my
lungs.

scattered flocks
of flashbacks crowd
the cobbled streets of
my daydreams,
and a smile tugs at
the corners of my lips.

and then i remember.

the walls shift and i don't know where i am.
the reel trips and falls, tumbling.
the twinge becomes unbearable and i am ripped to shreds.
the paper contorts and everything becomes uncertain.
the nostalgia screeches and flies into the dark.

stitches

i found a square of fabric.
the corners were damaged--
the border had been removed.
somebody did not like it.

i found a spool of lace.
its intricate pattern
embraced the ripped patch
with such tenderness.

i found a strand of thread.
nobody had used it before.
it seemed the perfect length
to mend this tattered rag.

i found a needle.
sharp, new.
sure to pierce the fabric
in all the right places.

i threaded the needle.
i could not sew
one straight stitch.
the needle
lost its gleam--
my unclean hands
tarnished it.

the needle stabbed
through my calloused fingertips.
ruby drops beaded.
pooling over shallow ridges,
they slipped from my grasp
and steadily crept along the
unstable fibers.

crimson corrupted
the branching tendrils
of pure white,
hissing lies into
the core.
the droplets,
they seeped through and soaked me.

carmine traced
the complex chain
of delicate lace,
its doublespeak curling through
the labyrinth.
the droplets,
they seeped through and soaked me.

i am a square of fabric.
my corners are damaged--
my border has been removed.
somebody did not love me.

Good Morning #5

Good morning, fair minstrel.
may your day be joyous and bright;
filled with laughter and song.

Good Morning #4

Smoldering clouds hide a
Flaming sun wishing to
Shine its rays upon your
Cheerful countenance.

spectral

blue.
coursing swiftly,
eager to oxidize,
to stain.
pumping, waving
goodbye to
warmth.
tinting shivering
tears.

red.
scribbling furiously
across pigments
until only a
technicolor rage
is branded on
the surface.
slowly sinking,
spreading.

yellow.
splashing blindly
over reality.
seen now are
sickening flashes
of trite imagery.
scenes of garbled
silence
flood the senses.

orange.
balancing precariously
on the lid of
a third eye.
ready to spill over
until all the
gutfeelings
have withered
to nothing.

green.
dividing infinitely
minute problems
that have no value.
all that remains
is a cluster of
odd numbers
and
a bushel of envy.

Good Morning #3

As your toes reluctantly
Shuffle across the bare floor,
Think of the morning dew
And rejoice.

Good Morning #2

Hark: an early riser-
a lark, methinks-
beckons to the treetops,
twittering a "good morning"
melody.

Good Morning #1

Ho there!: A morning star awakes from peaceful slumber,
stretching its five points to the far corners of the sky.

Maybe You Should Read It

doubt is in a vial
close to my chest.
swinging, cold
against my skin
with every plodding
step.

you were singing
somebody else's song
when you were
singing for me.

burnt pages.
rotting leaves.
volumes of
what you should know
staggered,
crammed onto dusty shelves.

Lethologica

Admit One

And the lobby felt strange with
Nobody sharing a swatch of
Upholstered discomfort.
Nobody to lazily collapse on
After sitting for far too long.

And the seat felt like summer.
Laughter muffled in her fibers,
Sweet perspiration from long days
Embedded into
Her core.

And the air felt like your touch.
Soft breaths of cold erasing
My confusion.
Quieting all the jumbled thoughts.

And the credits felt like the sea,
Rolling on and on.

And I felt caught in the moment.
With nobody next to me.

And nothing felt right.

And everything felt wrong.

anatomy

struggling through
congealing emotions:
thickening, sliding
down in slick globs.
splattering,
acidic.

unnecessary bits of
useless sentiment,
borrowed from the
dangling fringes of
heartskin.
this torn flesh
bores uncomfortable holes into
boring conversations.

insides screaming,
ripping,
biting,
clawing
at dreams that grind
against the rusty
vibrating wires of
whatwas.

fragile coils
bellow and crow,
bending forward,
snapping back.

brokenness grabs
patience by a frayed edge.
pulling,
twisting around crooked knuckles.
unraveling.

A Stereotypical Blog Post? Nah.

"How was your day, on a scale of 1 to 24?"
"Yellow."
"Smiley face yellow or pee yellow?"
"The kind of pee yellow where somebody pees, then doesn't flush the toilet, then somebody pees again."

Fast Backward

--STOP--
--PLAY--

"I wish I could just rewind it all."
Ouch.
Funny feelings.
Maybe it WILL be okay.
Sigh. .... Sigh.
"It's not hard for me..."
This is getting easier.
"You don't have to go, I'm telling you!"
"Do you like tomato soup? How 'bout instant pancakes?"
Look, a lucky bamboo, just for me!
Boom, a hurricane.
Two more days
Three more days
Four more days
Five more days
....
"July?"


--RWND--

Reason 4,435,768

You order spaghetti and meatballs with extra meatballs.

Sense and Sensibility

"Don't ask for time off, if you get the job. I just don't think it's sensible to go right now. I mean, it hasn't been that long since he left, and I've been going over the numbers. It's just not a good time. He's coming in October anyway, right? [Most likely not.] So you can just see him then, and we can save for you two to have an amazing time when he's here [like the World of Coke for the eightieth time]. I appreciate you offering to pay for gas, but I don't think that's a wise way to spend your money."

School?

Well, it's official. School has started.
I'm in the best class of my life: Lit Mag.
And I have an incurable case of writer's block.
Awesome timing, brain.

eyesearsmouthnose

her repressed thoughts--

screaming, whispering, clawing, biting

at any good thing in her weary mind.

the teeth of her comb mercilessly

chew over situations

until the flavor is gone,

until her brain is hardened to tasteless rubber,

softened only by the thin residue of saliva

that barely reaches her cracked lips.

lying back,

her thoughts slip from her ears.

immediately filling the

small breathing room allotted.

invisible cage--

she cannot escape.

cornering her,

baring their ragged teeth,

rearing their patchy heads.

old secrets, old worries

that fade from time to time

emerge from their shadowy corners,

bearing cobwebbed crosses,

forcing them upon her.

watching in horror

as her small space is devoured,

she silently screams.

the thoughts take their chance,

catapulting into her throat.

they tear and clot and tear again,

breathing thick air into her lungs.

she chokes and looks for a way out,

but blinding thoughts

weave a mask.

they lead her by tumbling rapids,

by burning fields.

and so it goes,

and so it goes.

and so will you soon, i suppose.

Blank

Eyes searching for a glimmer

Of blind faith

On the spotted ceiling,

Stained pure white by

The reality that

There really is nothing here

For her.

And down she goes,

Sliding,

Sliding.

Glazed eyes deny seeing anything

Written on the walls.

On the floor

Where she now sits,

Hopeless.

On the ceiling.

Where there is nothing

But white.

And white.

And white.

A Short.

They sit,
Slight wrinkles mirrored as
Youthful eyes meet
Behind thick-rimmed glasses.

Soft wrinkles mirrored on each
Cushion of their "first home" furniture.
Leather as smooth as his pint of sherbet.

20,000 Leagues

Eyes open.
Sunshine painting
Shifting mazes on your quivering body.
Glistening drops sticking to your
Freckled nose and
Shaking loose from your lips.

Cheeks puff.
The silence below the surface
Revealing less than I would like:
Just a clammy silence,
Persistently filling my ears.
Your legs floating,
Unattached to your drying torso above.

Arms paddle.
Pushing down, down, down.
The immense pressure
Replacing the silence,
Ears exploding.
Chest exploding.
Laughter exploding
Into a cloud of metallic bubbles.

Eyes open.
Smiles splitting our faces into two.
Sun splattering freckles on
Our shoulders.
Floating awkwardly in the water.

Dewy cheeks
Pressing together.
Growing too tired to support
Our own weight.
Creating whirlpools in the
New summer heat.
Dancing, embracing it.
Embracing each other.

In a league of our own.
Unexplainable giggles
Melting all the forlorn faces around.
And it's just us.

And it's just right.

Hello...?

And I know nobody is reading this. Hm.
So I don't know why I actually do this. Hm.
Maybe I'm just looking for some strange satisfaction. Hm.
Hm.
Great poem, eh?
Who am I talking to?

are you here yet?

when he was a boy,
he would make sure she was asleep
and they would go out driving
on the interstate.

i have been across afghanistan,
but only because my teacher told me to.
eleven pages read,
two hundred eighty-nine to go.

he is mixture of
degraw, barnes, mayer, and mraz.
and i have a signed record.
road tunes?

*secretsecretsecret*
you'll find out when we get there,
don't worry.

arthur
is still the best teacher.

though it always has ended up
where it needs to be,
i have lost my phone about twenty times
in the couch cushions.
it didn't matter, though.

jackpot was hit at
goodwill.
if only you were there.

"matamoros.
texas.
tuscaloosa."

i have
one hundred and ninety-two
hours of things to tell you,
so hurry back home.

I'll Be Home

The diesel is tangy
On my tongue.
The music flees from
The speakers and into
The morning air.

You hands grip the
Steering wheel,
But you are relaxed--
Your knuckles aren't white
Yet.

Hair mixes and mingles
As the midday sun roasts
Our faces.
You flap down the visor and
Glance at the directions.

The blue pendant
Is split and shattered into
A million shards of light.
The rainbows glint on your face
And I dance to move them.

The comforting ring of
His laughter echoes through
The car.
We have missed him.

Her charming manner
Has never altered in the
Face of everything.
We have missed her.

No snowflakes,
No lighted boulevards.
But they are
Home at last.

Goals...

I was once asked
What I wanted from life.
I was uncertain at the time,
But I just want

To be able to open my
Own front door,
And absorb the sounds
Of summer and spring
Through my skin.

To glide back and forth on
Our creaky porch swing,
And create dissonance with
The night-time birds.

To set up the
Hand-painted footstool,
And laugh as you
Take down the smoke detector--
Fast food sounds good.

To gasp in awe
When heat lightning glints
Across the dark sky,
Then to rejoice when the warm rain
Refreshes our bare toes.

To count the stars
On a scratchy blanket
With you.

If I could have anything,
I would just love to have Him
In every part of
Us.

:)

Where The Stars Meet at Night

The chilly blast of air
Is balanced by the
Warm smiles I am
Greeted by.

Led parallel to the
Glass-block windows,
My summer skin
Distorts and
Reflects the sunshine.

The amoebic pattern
Of the old seats
Draws my eyes from the
Traffic racing towards
Something better.

As the repairman teeters
Eerily on his creaky ladder,
The glass fixture
Bumps against the
Freshly lit bulb.
His paint-speckled pants
Are too baggy for his thin legs.

Two old men are discussing
Something.
One is concerned, for
The furrowed mustache,
Framing his chattering lip,
Mirrors his eyebrows.

The screech of
Clumsy, black shoes
Scuffs the speckled tile.
The girl behind the glass panel
Jumps in surprise.
She glances at her calm grandfather,
And laughs.

The jam packets
Spill over the side of
The glass bowl;
American flags circle the
Brim and the white stars shine.

The frills of the toothpick
Pinning my sandwich together
Litter the table in
Memories of picnics and
Grass-combing breezes.
Sweeping them off
My toasted bread
Is not an easy task.

Neon signs,
Vacant of light,
Glint in the hard sunlight.
The breeze wafts through
My hair and
New cars pass by.
My appetite is satiated,
Thanks to the corner of
Blackland and Roswell.

Easy Go

The summer sun
Cascades through
The leaves.
Their newly dirtied shoes
Escape silently as they
Flee from "base."
She counts as high as she can:
"To ten, two times."
The ants feast upon her
Freckled flesh.
"Ready or not, here I come!"

The autumn breeze
Nips at her exposed knees.
Fresh notebooks lie open
On the broken sidewalk
And the tears scrape
Against her tired cheeks.
She counts the steps
Her sister takes and
Wobbles along beside her.

The winter's chill
Sets into her face as
The ice shatters the
Silence.
The air, not long ago
Filled with peals of
Wild laughter,
Is cold and uninviting.
Trash can lids bang against
Her calves and she
Slips up the hill,
Her brother carving the way before her.

April showers
Bring new life as
She digs her toes into
The wet soil.
Towering over the cucumbers.
Muddy fingertips proudly polish
An uprooted prize as
She beams in the soft sunlight.
The breeze dances on
Her sun-warmed back.
The trees sing
As the scent of lilac sweeps
Across her dirt-streaked face.

A-Plus

directions:
(warning: not for
the faint-hearted.)

brush the wisps of hair
from her crinkled brow.

tell her you will
protect her
severed heart with
yours.

guide her down
overgrown paths,
but do not lead her on.

stroke her hair--
as it reflects the sun,
tell her she is beautiful.

remember how much it takes
for her to say sorry,
and that she means it.

praise her often--
insecurities have woven a
thick screen of distrust
across her mind.

communication is key.
keep secrets with her,
not from her.

tell her your birthday wishes.
she cares too much to
prevent them from coming true.

let her into your heart.
then you can start to
make hers better.

congratulations.

:)

Tic Tac Toe

All lines have been crossed.
No line has been drawn;
It's a tie!
XOXO,
I love you.

The End

The bitter ice
And confusion are
Making me slip.
My tongue skirts
Around my chattering teeth,
And your footsteps
Shake the silence.
We walk.
I am trembling, for
The inevitable is
Walking right towards us.
The cold metal
Of your zipper
Smacks your
Crisp jeans with each
Staggering step.
Your murmured speech echoes
Through my clouded head,
And then it is happening.
And then it is silent.
And then it is over.

1,000 Pieces

I am the backwards piece.
My cardboard face is staring blankly
And I am trying to
Change.
The rest of the picture is becoming clear--
For everyone else.

I am the piece that
Doesn't seem to fit anywhere.
The factory didn't cut me right
And I cannot complete
The Story.

I am the piece that
Is misprinted.
My crooked image
Distorts the tale and
I don't like what I see.

I am broken into
1,000 pieces, and I don't know
Where I fit in.