irony

black wings lifted off the bridge

with calls that deafened my ears

fears that I’ll never look at us again

remembering feeling hollow over

the ocean so full of abundance

starving during that beautiful falling tide

mute

why is it that i hear screams in the night.

when i close my eyes, and it’s quiet.

flashbacks of you, having to be restrained.

you biting, biting. i’m bleeding.

memories of you strapped down, pumped full of ketamine.

close your eyes, close your eyes. i’m pleading.

session #1

One day when I was bathing in my usual sadness I noticed butterflies on a bush in my backyard. When I approached it I was surprised to find that they didn’t fly away but remained. These purple flowers growing, not flying, towards the sun. I marveled at their mimicry. 

I wondered why life couldn’t be as simple as these charming buds. Why does this life have to be so tragic? And why would seeing a butterfly shaped flower bring me such joy? Why couldn’t I just ignore it. I wonder why I have to notice every exhausting detail.

I need some space—some breathing room. But how can I ignore your tears after you’ve seen an injured bunny? And how could I ignore your questions of, “Will I go to Heaven?”

You are a part of my world, but for you—I am your world. For you I will continue to reach, reach, and reach.

burnout

water everywhere, around me
surrounds me
puddles, the ponds, lakes, the sea
water above, around
surrounding me
my head under everywhere it seems
stuck breathing in bubbles, barely
but I’m gasping for air in my dreams

false

Everything he told me was a lie.
The bits about the winter, his past,
his apparitions.
Even that story of him skating
fearfully on the ice
Before he blacked out to
Dream about her.
Lost and crying in Heaven.
Everything he told me was a lie.

vanishing

I don’t want to be that girl
who gives everything
everything she has and hasn’t
over and over until
it’s years and years later
with everything dwindling
down to a few somethings
I don’t want to be that bird
who gives away her last somethings
somethings she has and hasn’t
every day and day until
it’s ages and ages later
with somethings scrambling
down to nothing
I don’t want to be that desperate soul
who even tries to give nothing
nothings she has and hasn’t
over and over until
she reaches forever and a day
with nothings trembling
down to anything
I don’t want to be that girl

guilty

you can’t recognize that happiness
you wore twelve years ago
your eyes so full of stupid hope
before it hit you, before he hit you
now you have to force the
gold into your brown
darken that kohl to match your fading hair
listen to post’s “blame it on me”
invite that pervert in
to taste your dried up lipstick
make you look away to blush
and wait for the flames to hit

dwell

I wondered why he painted the
house the color of blood
blackened the windows except
the one on the upper left side
made the door look like a mouth
so it could devour us one by one
swallow us into the ground
to choke on the dirt, beg to breathe
pray and pray for the evil to leave

I wondered why he painted the
house that awful color of red
his brain just starting to misbehave
his dark thoughts claiming him
taking us down with him
to bear the scars, the trauma
and dream of blood
choke on it even, beg to breathe
pray and pray for the evil to leave

air

what airs you try to possess

as the dragonflies try their best

to provide proficient company

as you carefully trim the trees

to look like those jewels

that rest upon your breast

place

we can’t help it

this lot is haunted

with those ancient ghosts

so undecided

they can’t help it

all their fighting

with those old hurts

so resided