little minnow

let us not forget, darling dear,
how each of us
is full of fear.
cross thy wrist
Enunciate.
awful tiny shred of fate!
a confession wrought
thin lines in chalk,
and streams of tepid tears.

mignon

i nick i pick i pry
i twitch i slip i lie
i miss i drip i cry
i flinch i rip i sigh

I don't know how to express myself?

obviation

lay me down
let me weep
for i must
my soul to keep.
blushing bruising,
slips and settles.
under skin,
nestled nettles.
little steps,
wrung out neck.
do not cry child,
you'll be next.

kitten

i am a pet of mine.
a quiet whistling sense of time.
bordering neatly on the lip
into which, my soul it drips.
restless rustling rounded deep,
oh how does it moan and weep.
but nothing hurts and nothing helps,
quite like a twisted sense of self.

mother may i

it tears little bits.
gnawing at ankles.
picking at scabs.
tiny wisps of suggestion.
it seeps out in fits.
you can see the decay in the way the light leaks out from under
each door we close between us.
the claws dig in,
every word cuts deeper
deeper!
a ribbon of flesh.
a sliver of skin.

you, me, and everyone we know

may there never be one thing
quite like how this day feels on the outside
may i never nearly forget
how my emotions rust, breathing in dust
and how every single sunset seems red


=====

I hate mornings,
a cliché trend to be sure, but why not?
But it's not really morning
so I hate mid-mornings, and pre-noons,
and possibly noons, afternoons, and evenings.
(I'll have to tell you when I get there.)

But that's not really what I wanted to write about.
I wanted to write about beauty and trivialities,
and sadness.
In words that would make you weak,
Read with a sigh and a sinking heart.

But that's not really what I wanted to write about.

Things are odd when you're not thinking.
It's funny how, when your mind's working.
It's nearly impossible to say anything at all.
The words drag their feet
clawing at your throat, but only in the wrong direction.
In desperation you'll force yourself to choke them out
But then they're all mixed up, and you forgot what you wanted to say anyway.
And it couldn't of mattered if you couldn't say it in the first place.

just leave it

so now lets lay in bed and listen to my
joints crack back into place
oh what can i do?
there are no words yet.
my feelings are a loaded gun,
hot and heavy in your hand.
crack. crack. crack.
just one more sleeping land mine.

let's go live on the moon my darling

you, me, and the cat.

in a moon house, breathing fresh moon-air.

our children will play,

on moon hills

and in moon gardens we'll grow

the most beautiful moon flowers.

everything will be exactly how you pictured it.

I don't know what I'm writing nowadays.

you're always on my mind, up down sideways in the sunlight.

we're never alone, you're my insides.

knotted devastatingly in veins and arteries

beating out iloveyou in every tha-thump tha-thump

on my sleeve.

wrong.

i want the earth to spin off orbit,
hurtling millions of miles to a new sun.
i want nuclear winter,
and enough hot cocoa to last us till were dead.
i want me and you,
under blankets, skin burning , limbs touching.
we'll watch the planets fly by
sipping hot cocoa,
and i'll tell you i still love you,
no matter what the aliens think.



(are we the aliens now?)