Inevitability ClauseYour sister tells mewe do it for the medicationas if I don't look atthe knives in the kitchenevery day like solace& sayno, not today.As if I enjoy every timeI've been too tinny tinyor monstrously stretchedinside this house of cardsbrushing against oneat just the wrong angle& my sanity falling downin red & black stains.As if I don't wishto have an equilibriumthat can withstandthe images in the trees& how when I look in the mirrorthere is a little girlstaring back at mewaiting for her turnto be specialin the hot air balloonof my left irisas I wait for my turnto bury these corpses of fatein the yard.Your sister doesn't knowhow it feels to be trappedunder a beam of inevitabilityas the room burns downwith your mind playing arsonistthat no matter how hardyou try for that wondrous normalcyit always skips out of reachlike a stone set on sinking.I try to hide my indignant facethe overwhelming pleasurethat would come fr
Untitled..i.This is pure poetic impotenceI didn't wash up ontothe shores of your consciousness,only shoved my boat thereout of my own selfishness.A life has happenedwhile I've been missingstaring out of blank picture frameswhile you moved on& forgot my name & the belonging,charring the path back.There is no reason for thismultitude of emotionif it were not for meyou would still live.I have lost the key to your heart& like a phantom limbonly I can feel its twitching.ii.What right do I have toinvade your life againI watched our embersblink out a month agobut you forged the wildernessfor new paths to joywhile I curled up in the fireplaceto paint myself in ash.I was only brought in temporarilyto serve my penanceI have no place in your ecosystemexcept as a parasite coming backto ruin the beauty unjustly.My phone sits cradled againstmy false hope for reintegrationunable to dial myself back to you.iii.I told people you were having
Strings That Tie to YouI have so many wordschurning in my minda hurricane with no eyethat spins & jockeysuntil I'm blinded& only seeing the printlike snow on a television.In my dreams we havehours long conversationsin a space so whiteit glowsno walls or furniture,just a never ending blankness.We only exist fromthe waist upbut also only heads& you are happierthan I've ever seenchattering like someecstatic birdas rushes of colortint the air psychedelic.You are strong againbut by the timeI open my eyesI cannot rememberanything we've saidall of it like agarbled radio transmissionof dye & the sound ofyour laughter.I wake up & face a worldthat bent youtext swimming my brainlike the English Channel& never tiring.
ThankfulYesterday you read meI flayed away my skinso you could seeall my gnarled bonesthat pop & grind every morning,my organs all bloatedwith an unspecific need for you.Last night I dreamt it was snowingeverything whited outexcept the black marks around my eyeslike some blissful raccoon.I walked alone & nakedwith my insides crystallizing intosomething you might thinkwas beautiful.I am afraid of my honestythe same way I'm afraid ofloving youheld up by my feet in a townwhere they kill indiscretion& the unknown.But your silenceswords unkempt & not forcedwere enough.In those moments I knewyour furious heart with mine,even if your mouth couldn'tformulate a concrete emotion.
Summer CampYou asked for more& I will give it to youmy sweet girl,my hummingbirdyour wings move so quicklyno one can be surethey're really there.You deserve to be happyI can see your grandmotherresting an unhappy childon her unhappy knee& trying to change her mindwith something she mighthave spoken as a consolation.But you are more thana child who wouldn't speakbecause she feared the powerof voice,who learned instrumentslike playing house& how to frown by example.You are a woman whospeaks of elegance to me& makes me believe it,whose face could spark warslike a modern Helen of Troy& when you ache, I achethe unnamable spasmingstretching between our chestslike a tether between theconcentration camps in our heads& the New World we can discover.I write to keep you above waterto keep the shotgun of sorrowaway from your dazzling mind& hope it's enough for a momentarylapse in reasoning.
AviaryAvalon, my aviary, Ave Maria aver.You are too beautiful to put into words.I am bird-flu sick from you.I want to spend my days in your menagerie and die from the infection of the sun.You are Eden, aptly named.Your parents knew before they left what you'd become-- how you would change my world.You said you've never been on my side of it but you've handled me so carefully--spilling water drops into my mouth to sustain me.Every word you speak hits me like a revelation-- how could we have not met before now?I do not know if I'm in love with youbut I'm in love with how you've helped me see.Perspective is a beast that's long eluded meand you've put a collar around it for me to walk around the parklike a poodle.Seeing how we can be together,not together,but together,has put it all in place.You called me your lover and I nearly choked.Lover isn't my word anymore, but I'll let you have it.I want something en espanol-- rolling R's on your soft tongue.You call yourself mongrel
Romantic FriendshipSundays are the loneliestI feel the weight of mileagemore profoundlyas your boyfriend drivesfour glossed hoursto meet up with your door.I wrap myself in crystals& cut glass like a shroudcursing the insolent mountainsthat apologize for nothing buttheir newly abashed beauty.You are working onperfecting perfection& the hours are slower hereyou cried to me last night& all the pet namesI have in my arsenalwere proven worthless.You are sunlight turningthe ocean to diamondsglittering blasphemouslywith no shame& none of my created stonescan shine as wholly.When I'm certain you arelaying beneath himI don't know whether tocringe or smileunable to decide ifromance or friendshipis illuminating the ghost of your facein my vision.
TrustingYour uncle made lacewith bruises on your body& you cut secret symbolsin defiance or resignationsometimes they meanthe same thing.These are the smallest dotsto connect into a lifepinpricks of emotional bloodto follow to a source largerthan a mode of operationor a list of sorry symptoms.Trust is a delicate forceit stretches the past intocurrent eventsbut also holds your handthrough the grieving.I am trustworthy howan empty box isable to be filled withexcruciating memories& blown out sentimentswithout warping oran influx of judgment.I am as simple asa tape recorderspeak into me & play me backto hear a ghost voicehidden in the static.You are not the firstto paste your secretsto my mirror framebut I hold yours closercapable of staying uprightwithout clutching at mefor balancing acts,yours mean more.They mean that even thoughyou can live aloneyou chose to bring me inwrapping me in the linenof your worldbut st
UntitledWe are lucky inour separate dialectsI kneel at your architecture& pray to the god offailed suicidesfor you to stay.We have survived ourselvesbut melancholy stillspreads itself acrossyour ocean & my mountain peaksour vast & hopeless symptom.I want to kiss your forgotten gravethat has resurrected me& that took you, limp,to a sterile room withno natural lightfor your skull to heal.Our skin is thick withmissed opportunitiescoming back from thehouse of the deadis never easy.I have taken deathlike communionbut it was your moutharound the tablethow dark are thedeepest shadows inthe derelict landscape?Do the yew tree's armsstill surround the chapelof loss?Everything knelt tothe moment I knewyou had already left,my scars taking solacein their fraternal twinsmemorialized in stained glass.