(mis)carry

After searching for diamonds
at the bottom of the drain,
I hang my thoughts to dry
above my bed.

Osmosis by waterboard is my gateway.

vivid details in blue
silent screams of loss
floating through weightless relief

You've forgotten more than you've known.

I am the goddess you wish I were
in depths where you won't find me,
holding my breath for extraordinary measures of time
because I am best at pushing away.

When living paycheck to paycheck is a step up in the world,
and voyeurism is how we connect,
I will let you down in being human.

I wake alone
to twisted sheets and mud puddles
and a hollowness in my belly.

Ephemeral

I wrote this thing back in March of 2010.  I named it Ephemeral.  I was never happy with it, and came back to it a couple of years later to fix it.  I still wasn't happy with it.  Today, I think I finally finished it.  I'll see how I feel in a couple of years.


EPHEMERAL

waking to your eyes
alive and overflowing with joy
sunlight through snow
your hand grazing my waist

steady, girl

I'm wearing a dress you've never seen.
You'd love it on your bird.

Who's to know what's real?

Nothing is sure, but the joy is constant.  The joy as great as the fear as great as the anger as great as the questions as great as the love.

Do I know you?

In songs we shared like secrets on pillows.
Trying to find peace.
Disinfecting a wound hurts.
And running makes us strong.

In the letting go
I am haunted
by dreams or memories.
Nothing of me is sacred
or safe from your shade
as it winds and twists and sets me on fire.

hold fast, girl

strong hands on my hips. kisses at the kitchen sink. the smell of you on the sheets. bruises on my neck. foreheads touching through sweat. heaviness of blankets. legs intertwined. laughter. peace was on your porch. answered prayers.

fight to pull in breath over the pain in my chest. pull over the car. scream into the emptiness until my voice is raw. throw my phone into the void. hit the steering wheel. bruises on the palms of my hands. panic was in the gravel. block. silence.

My dress is red and won't be put out by my tears
or pleas for mercy.
I burn till there is nothing left
but the ache in my clipped wings.

In pictures, there is sadness in your eyes
even as you smile.

We hide our fear in secrets.
Look how far we've run.
Look how strong we are.

In Dedication To...

To my Cowardly Lion.  May you one day be whole.


I stand hidden in the shadows
on the edge of a clearing
silent and watching you,
Cowardly Lion.
Soul raped
Heart rent
Body wracked
You stumbled here to lick your wounds.
Cornered and dangerous
Gnashing your teeth
I hold my breath
in the sudden silence
as you catch my scent on the air
hoping you cannot hear
the war drum trapped in my chest.
I know that should I move
Should I dare to reach out to you,
my veins would be ripped
and left as vines in your garden.
There is already too much of me buried there.
So, I brace myself
against a last roar of warning
before you bend back to your work.
Under a mask of snarling superiority
and a new dinner jacket,
you stand upright
to wander through trees
you still cannot see
pretending to be human
with a heart that beats a human beating.
But as you pass me
Unpausing
Unblinking
I hear your own drum crying.

Keys

On a typewriter
with sticky keys
left by a previous tenant
I rewrite history.
In the awkward silence
of a repetitive I
I
I
I wonder
if you'll ever pay rent
on the ever-expanding space you take up.
out of room in my head
overflowing my heart
cracking under the strain
in the repetitive click
of the invisible I
I
I
I glance
at my apron
hanging under a water-stained ceiling.
A testament.

Ephemeral (edit)

I wrote this a long time ago.  I came back to it today.

I am haunted by dreams. 

By the memory of your eyes, in the sunlight through snow. 

Color shifting iris. 

Who’s to know what’s real?  The memory of your hand grazing my waist.

I’m wearing a dress you’ve never seen; you’d love it on your bird.

Nothing is sure, but the joy is constant.

The joy as great as the fear as great as the anger as great as the questions as great as the love.

Do I know you?

In songs we shared like secrets on pillows.  Trying to find peace.

But disinfecting a wound hurts.

And running makes us strong.

I dance to wring you from my mind.

My soul.

From every place you’ve touched.

Fire that won’t be put out by my tears.

Your shade won’t leave.

Dreams, weaving and twisted.

Wrapping around me without actually touching.

Cold breeze brushing my waist.

Drawing me in; leaving me blank.

Do I know you?

Dance.

Metaphor: In case you didn't get it

When I was a very young girl, I found a baby bird barely hanging on to life.  I took it home to save it.  By the time I got it the two blocks to my house, the chick was dead.  But I kept insisting it was alive.  If a breeze rustled its feathers, I took it for breath and movement.  I wanted it to live.  I wanted it to fly away.

When Leaving Doors Open

And so it ends
or does it begin
or just lengthen
the seconds between
when the tears fall
and
the sighs steady