last night you were in my bed

the first guest in my bed and I

remember the last time someone sank themselves in my embrace

that was a desert ago, but I

am the same person, the sane person

you whispered feathers into my ears and foam into my nerves

you trailed moonlight down my chest and I

I’ve never known love like you’ve known love but I think

don’t think

I think I’m ready

you left the lights on and the bed made

your eyes soft and forgiving, unknowing, and you ask,

who hurt you?


the air is still in my lungs


what’s wrong? my soul
is in agony-
is struggling against its prison-
is in turbulence;
did my soul mate die-
I wonder…
I believe in soulmates.

my being is whole,
my being, however, is not-
it seems something terrible is happening
somewhere I can’t see;
I don’t know myself all that well,
I’m not as wise as you once told me I’d be.
I’m not the person I ought to be:
I feel this like a bee feels its sting
I’m sad, but so much more
I hope I’m not being ungrateful
I owe everything to my mother.

the last time this happened was two years ago
I’m a different person now,
but the feelings are the same.
the thoughts are the same, too:
maybe there’s more than one soul mate out there for me.
if so, what do they need satisfied?
why does my mind keep screaming
“he’s dead!”?

5.14 pm 8 april 2016

the fog is back
I’m running
the blur ropes around my ankles and
my neck
is choked by the undefined
fingers and claws
I know it’s just air and water and my imagination
isn’t real; it’s all in my head
but I swear you don’t know what it’s like
at my age
when the path my feet are on is disintegrating
and my heart stops and starts beating indeterminately
I can’t decide if
I want to set my brain on fire
or my head in ice
I swear
you don’t know what it’s like
I’m willing to give it all up
willing to make it all stop
just for a brief moment of clarity
the second before nothing and everything

i’ve been thinking too much

It has been a year, and more-

I still wonder how you are.

I never want to know, though.


You, with your brown eyes and lies

you did what you said you’d never

do and I did what I always said I would.


I guess I should be grateful

for all the horrid times you brought

light broke through.


“Help me” the stereo whispers

I’m in the corner, nodding in response-