Winter

wandered aimlessly
through cold asphalt streets
echoes resounding
with each step from my feet
stars as my hat
oil slick rainbows below
inhaling the smog forming
pictures in the sky
like puffy clouds
would in other towns less
wrought with cars and chaos
always collecting keys from
temporary domiciles
this transitional lifestyle
is the science of
vacant brain sleeping
while passed out on a couch
still wearing my shoes
from the previous evening
listening to the same television show
through yesterdays eye liner
on repeat in my dreams
turning to nightmares as well
alarm clock repetition
"the plot never changes"
can describe so many things
wonder what going home means
to me now
in a city I've always known
abandoned me somehow
my heart broke in this place
called it a loss
family is scattered
haven't felt safe in what seems like
two lifetimes
of liquor soaked timelines
blown away cigarette ashes
i'm finding some solace in places surprising
truths are now different
and I have given up analyzing
what my gut says is true
i'm always the glue
but sometimes its nice to get
tucked into bed too

teetering backwards

I walked barefoot once
upon a checkerboard floor
but splintered my foot upon
a twisting creaking staircase
that did not lead anywhere
only to run quickly,
backwards, away
I saw reflections of a memory
leaving fingerprints invisibly
leftover stickiness from
gluing back these pieces of me
I like clinging to you
in that space where shoulder
and heartbeat meet
to brush cheeks
I walked barefoot once
through forest floors
feet wet with moss and mud
ignoring scratches on bare arms
trying to read smeared black ink
as I draw a thousand tiny hearts
upon my skin to your lips
words sung to ears with whispers
cannot find a substitute
lyrical pathways of where I lay
the dirt feels better than cold sheets
most nights anyway
I like the secrecy the night brings
standing right at the edge
when you can finally see stars

Coming to my senses

It is something familiar

like sitting in the front yard of the house I grew up in
or the way my mom would wake me up with an orange juice in the morning
(never have been a morning person)
that comfortable silence that I used to look for
within all the arms that never quite held me correctly
is now wrapped around me
like a quiet symphony
singing softly like a whisper in my ear from a memory

It is something familiar
like a smell I can’t place but inhaling brings me back 
travel in a time machine to a specific place and moment that changed it all 
(probably another time I ran away)
that moment when a hand pulled my hair aside
when a touch to my shoulder brought earthquakes 
feelings I was not prepared for 
that gutted my stomach retreating to my own insecurities 
like a broken record

It is something familiar 
like a dream I had, but faded into subconscious memories 
a faceless figure holding me and reminding me that there are those who can love 
(a voice that can soothe the beast in me) 
a soft spoken phrase cuts like an arrow to the heart
pierces and infects me with a sweet dizzy spell from a fuzzy thinking head 
a man that gives me the spins by just glancing my way 
and for a second he can see me, 
without the walls that surround

ragdoll revisited

the heart was bandaged
badly bruised
but the pieces almost fit together
with the clever use of duct tape
twine tied up the edges
and seams have been reinforced
with patches made
from mismatched fabrics
but still it beats steadily

the eyes that always look away
seemingly bored is so much safer
than being entranced
electrical shocks of direct contact
from corneal fixations
enthralled and exuding the
emotions that come
with the sweeping down of eye lashes
but still they see simple beauty

the lips that smile despite herself
hold back the words of
a thousand poets' ink stained hands
allowing the depths of all the unanswered
letters of lovers to drown her within
an ocean of her own making
convinced she'll never learn
to swim well enough to get to shore
but still can whisper kisses to another's lips

the frowns - an idea for a children's book

i keep the frowns in a drawer
beside my bed while i sleep

(where i repeatedly tell them stories usually involving princesses
and the occasional magic spell)

but the frowns shake and tumble
crash into each other

knock over the table
open the drawer to spill all over the floor
piled upon each other
stack higher

and higher

and even higher

until they begin to fall from the windows
fill the space under the bed

(which seems dangerous to me, since thats where all
those pesky monsters live)

they bounce from wall to wall
sit upon desks
tumble out the doorway to takeover
even the hallway

the frowns just keep multiplying
and getting more
and more
and more
overwhelming

until i am surrounded by this sadness
clinging to the walls and making them get closer
and closer
the frowns wont listen to me
"go away i say"
again and again but their eye brows get madder

but just when the frowns think
they have won over
blasts of light blow them up
Like fireworks at night

(you see they are much more contagious
and far more courageous)
the smiles will win, in the end
as they do

fading

i can hardly
remember her
that scared scarred girl
walking on eggshells
as not to awaken the
beast inside him
barely make out
her silhouette in the room
as if i had erased those years
from a memory card
torn out pages from journals
torn photos that remind me
there was a time
when i was living
within her body
calculating
and then recalculating
the plausible exit strategies
causing the least amount
of collateral damage
i can barely recall
the tone that would change
like a light switch
turning on
turning off
turning his face to that
distinct shade of
angry red
turning wrists purple
and leaving hand prints
where hands squeezed so
tightly
afraid i'd squeeze my way
through a rabbit hole and escape
i can hardly make out
the faded memories until
they sneak out in a story
seep to the surface
slowly make their way to
a life they cannot survive in
hand chosen and
created by
beautiful things that
illuminate dark thoughts
like night lights that
never burn out
to keep away the
monsters lurking
in closets
locked away
within the
subconscious

Thievery

A stolen moment
Of time spent without seconds
Frozen stories
Spent spinning within my mind
Of a brief interaction
Free of repurcussions
Reading and rereading
Words written from then
From now
And then again never said
Never spoken
A muted mouth where syllables
Hang like secrets
In the air we are breathing
As if I would ever dare
To bring thoughts to reality
Where physical interaction
Is simply a story in some book
Written and set upon a shelf
To bring theory to temptation
Describe a science of
Unexplained chemistry
To dreams where touch can ignite
And a memory can illustrate
What never existed