When the heart looks like this
And the mind turns it over to repeat
repeat
repeat

the mistakes you never made
How was it ever worth keeping in your blood?

War.

Subtracted from Life
Added and demolished
Take away the lesser
Crumbling and creating
a denser, solid wall
aching and debating
Add a hand-destroying

the perfect harmony.

I don't know what I want
and what I have I don't know

Everything is twisted and I'm feeling so low.

silly 59 second poems.

Oh you're just so sweet.. I love your little feet
when you walk across the snow
you needn't even slow

you invite the cold,
while warmth comes creeping up
two forces joined together,
our bodies skin to skin.

----------------------

I left my courage at home
everything was fine
until I came undone
It just slipped my mind

The threads of my body
began to unravel
I caught in things behind me
much longer than my travel


Traffic was often stopping
and I kept on walking on
the fear was in my body
and I was gone

I tangled in the streelights
and hung above the city
and just above my eyes
I thought the day was done

I wrestled with the darkness
and cut the thread that tied me
I walked back just the way I came
my trailing fear behind me.

She'll never keep you warm
not underneath the blankets
her skin is just too cold,
and her teeth will chatter

She'll never help you sleep
not closer to your body,
her dreams create a barrier
and you'll feel so alone.

On Display.

Issues.
You understand them. Or would like to.
In most cases you lie and tell me you understand, to try and make me feel at ease. I'm used to it.
The tapping of that goddamn pen against your clipboard, it sends waves of irritation down my spine and into my aching hands. I clench them whenever you speak.
And the way your head tilts, and those small, crumpling lips that purse and pursue to question me,
but it's all white and blank to me. There's no variation whatsoever.
Your advice is nothing but fragments of biased text left in your memory.

It's always "How are you feeling today? Anything you want to discuss?"


It's not discussion I need. It's not the pills or the hands joining in impatience to solve the next issue.
I don't need the clean, printed papers held on your desk where I'm nothing but a number. The tangled mixture of issues you thought you helped once.

I need wisdom. Trust in another's heart that they can listen.
You're nothing but a book on display. And I need anything but your false kindness to feel comforted.

Motif.

All above I care about
won't give a damn how I turn out
They want to be seen and felt by the upper
want to be held by the duplicate's hand

All so small and hung by a wire
They take up the habit of the abider
who lives in an outershell of skin
afraid to tell they don't blend in

Careless and distracted they sit in rows
the only differences, we'll never know
striped checked crossing equal signs
always perfectly in line

The opposing hand will never rise
no thought, so function, only eyes

shifting and crossing to fit the plane

all in search of common name.

no diamonds to shine.

Come over here and paint my face
I wanna feel the link between time and space
the multicolored energy flow
of the only happiness I need to know

Tell me 'bout love that melts to water
show me the love that dies to grow
let me feel you getting farther
and your paintings that keep the consistent flow-

show me how to grow in shadowed valleys
and tell me how to smile when my legs won't go
whisper to me dear the secrets, tell me
how to paint our future out of stones.

The greatest form of medicine
to mend my bones and calm my head
in the deepest sleep you said
you'd be coming home

I waited several days
my sickness slowly giving way
all the memories of us that day
were slowly coming home

Hug my legs and hold my hands
I can't take you gone again
atleast until I'm strong to stand
please be coming home.

In the end
it was all sticks and stones
too broken up to fix my bones

I told my friend where the enemy stayed
but in the end it was just too late

I told them to go
but they never did show
in the end they just stole my friends
I told them to go
but they never did show
in the end they just left me cold

it was all water under the bridge
but by then I was already sick
all my friends packed up to leave
in the end they called me enemy.

I told them to go
but they never did show
in the end they just stole my friends
I told them to go
but they never did show
in the end they just left me cold.

Cheesey love poem. I never write these.

I snuck a wink across the room,
an embarrased cheek began to bloom
I never thought I'd feel a smile
or hear the breathe of a racing heart.

I picked up the courage I'd dropped on the floor,
to carry me towards the open door
in step and out, I didn't care
for this was something more.

stupid little song.

I found the bank had been left full
our memories afloat the waters edge,
steeping in the summer's sun
all together to keep them warm

Stitches in our arms and legs
they're too tight to pull apart
and even though we're still together
I feel so very, very far

wrapped around me
you never found me
all the years you searched and scrounged
never saw me never called me
never ever left your ground

I found the boat we thought was empty
just like our twisted solid bones
our happiness was still inside it
it was too heavy to take it home

wrapped around me
you never found me
all the years you searched and scrounged
never saw me never called me
never ever left your ground

I was right beside you
held on tight to
everything we wished to be
and now you're home and all alone
a little river turning to the sea.

I was there.

The sparkles of her eyes made a lump in my throat
it was all I could do to contain it's choke

Her warming hug around a nearby friend-

I can't stand to feel so small.

It was her muscles formed around that smile
and the teeth that told such a sweet goodbye

she escaped embracement, and shed her light
that swallowed my waving hands.

Change of path

I came across a lightening storm
It fed my empty hunger

My insides hollow and tangled wire
bursting into flame.

I crossed the path of abandoned hands
reaching for my sheltered head

I just left them there instead
to crisp within the fire.

Pocket artist

An artist that lies under tangles of thread.
Dead art, is what they call her.

Too hidden beneath the smoke of burning branches
to ever pick up the brush in glory again, as they say.

The embers blow away you know,
and that artist will be sewn and embroidered into your scene-

you'd wish you could have painted.

don't protect me.

The tangle of arms and legs wrapped around me-
bound so I can't breathe
constricting me

keeping my hands in pockets and eyes painted white
so I can't see.

don't protect me.

I need to breath the toxin, devour the bared teeth
to feel a sensation other than air beneath my feet

I crave hard edges and cold wooden floors
to sleep on when beds become too soft and too sweet..

to rid of the comfort and trusts their eyes keep

please, don't protect me.

Live.

Don't you ever leave yourself

And leave your head surrounded

By the hands that feed on lies

and live to be unfounded

They're in the way to see

the perfect rows of fingers

To better rid yourself of bitter thoughts that linger


You can pick out anything

from underneath the burdens

And create epiphanies

that turn to open curtains

You can look straight through the glass

And see you're lost and empty

But never can you leave yourself

and find the road to live free.