pry

in a place where dogs are barkless

and children lose their screams

prowls a figure, much like those

shadows that play under your bed

he creeps in and around without notice

smells your lipstick and then

slinks back into the dark

 

deem

the evil ones, especially, love beauty

look at you, think a thought

then look away, but stare again

run fast baby girl, cause

it’s not too far behind you

like all our happy memories

kicking up that dust of the past

making our hearts ache, cause

they just couldn’t last and

my brain is stuck on these sorrows

I’m so fearful they they’ll sojourn

for all my tomorrows

the evil ones just love our beauty

could we persuade it, possibly

so that the good in it would take form

cast

Do you remember that place where the trees were tall, and the ground was soft? Everywhere you looked – your eyes were stained with moss. The wind was your white noise, and it hid all the screams from those bad boys. They took all the purple flowers and tore them up, then laughed and ran away. But you walked the other way when they punched you with closed man-sized fists. You are so good at what you do. 

And when the oldest one told you to, “JUST GO KILL YOURSELF!” — you couldn’t help but respond, “why would you say that!”  Only to remember that dream you had where you stopped yourself from swallowing all those small white pills. You never knew your eyes could fill with tears so fast. The oldest boy smiled, and you knew you had failed. He then proceeded to chase you while chanting, “I’m going to stab you with a knife.” You blocked all the hits of his colored pencil, cause at this — you are very skilled. 

And all the while remembering that Forest of the Too Tall Trees and wishing you had never seen those pitiful boys filled with bad thoughts and rage. For you’ve grown tired of how they latch on to you, how they revolve around you like you are their fucking lifesaver. So tired of being a lifesaver. Here, now— I remember that green. God, how I want to get lost in that moss. Taste the sunshine on my lips and be blinded. Do you remember that place?

colère

poor little baby, you bit your tongue

chewing on all that hatred.

was it horrible? did it cut your throat

when you swallowed it down?

did it try to climb its way back up, and

make you run to the bathroom to find

an empty stall?

poor little baby, you broke your finger

pointing it and flipping them the bird

that was carrying all that ill will.

did it break free and flee?

perhaps fly away somewhere quiet to

rest on a snow-capped tree or

a glowing, warm palm.

poor little baby, you failed the test.

bogus

heard the blinds clank together

as if I’d have a visit from the voodoo man

but

I don’t even believe in him, I’d think

but

after a visit from the voodoo man

I surely would, I’d think

and afterwards tell him to pack up

all his trinkets, his tools of deceit,

his bottles of dark poison,

all his sparkling white elephants

leave me to close those blinds

and pray he leaves me far behind

dare

you were swimming with the sharks, Love

did you feel them when you were up above?

you minded your business and they minded theirs

lifeguard left his station but you didn’t care

you were swimming with the sharks, Love

how did all that danger feel?

not much different than your everyday?

you really are so brave, Love

season

his notes throw my brain
back to winter, cold and ice
he’s so good at that
everything freezing, everything leaving
rushing past me
going to places — I want to go
his keys spark my sleepy memories
my eyes explode with
those open fields and dying trees
my heart melts with burnt clouds
and those magical fading leaves

former

must have been a thousand years old,

those scars on her hand

when she forgot her looks and

her dreams ran out the door

yet

that yellow still makes her dizzy

and her tongue still prefers what’s fizzy

maybe her soul hasn’t lost its spark

maybe she hasn’t lost her life

just yet

futile

it appeared that there were

dead cranes on the side of the road

their graceful necks draped over the curb,

beautiful yet useless

much like our forgotten conversations

it all makes sense now, since I no

longer recognize my

laugh from the photographs

thrown all over the floor

tiptoe around them like a

doomed choreographed ballet,

beautiful yet useless

inexplicable

I wonder if the freaks of the shattered

doors will get lost

now that the holes are fixed

I doubt they’ll cheer and clap

as we rid them of their destruction

but

I like the way the bright color

adorns the walls in this space

as I wonder how long your peaceful

calm will stay in this place