One Can Only Hope

the walls will finally
learn to speak
when one night
you wake up cold
wishing you'd had a heart
and that crack in your
soul, quickly turning to
a gaping hole
will introduce itself
and my name will
haunt you until
your dying day.

and i'll stand up straight
hold my head up high
and i hope it hurts
i hope it
rips you limb from limb
when you're hitting bottom
and you end up nothing
and i'm just a blur
off in the distance
that you still can't reach.

let me know when
you trip and fall
and just stay down
because you've finally
realized
the world has no use
for you.

and that'll be the day
that'll be the last day
you'll ever see
a smile cross my lips
at the mention
of your name.

this means war.

can we stop and talk please? can just you and me go on a walk and talk for hours? can i tell you a story? it's older than i could ever be but is everything i can be. right now,

at this moment in time, let me tell you. i've nothing but five dollars in cash, a bus pass, a pocket full of hopes, a bowl packed of green, and stone walls around me such that no army could ever pass. and i am slowly, bit by bit, allowing the stone to sink in. have it's way and influence.

and then nothing can touch me. if i am stone, solid and cold, nothing can hurt any more. stone has no memory or trauma in its past. it is still and cool and strong.

it's a far cry from here and maybe i should be there.

...floating. i am
in and out of everything. i am split, noncommittedly evenly. i am that kiss on the cheek, half quickly,
half
breathed. your hand's at my nape, mine cradles the back of your skull. and we can tip toe 'round and breathe in the smells of summer yet coming. beer is on
the breeze.

...slamming. an open door in the wind, never locked. ripped
open and pinned wall to wall with little blue location pins. slowly sinking, leaving behind every day. i am soon to be consumed by relief or release or resentment or
the the rictus you wear on your heart.

Over Seventy

there's nothing like a
no longer lethargic sun
and a breeze that smells
like the birth of something
beautiful
to open my eyes up wide
and make you shine.

before, during, after: the fact

there's no
breaking the habit
of breaking hearts
when your voice
is the first hit
of subzero air
assaulting lungs
and tears a like.
and there's
disbelief in my eyes
as i glance at the
words you spill onto
a useless and barren
screen.
you want to
fly 'round the world
without ever
having to leave
the ground
and you're sitting there
thinking
that intelligence grows
and glows and gleams
through wire rims
but you've merely
made yourself into
a spectacle -
the kind you used to scoff at.
you think that you're climbing
higher and higher
but what you're not seeing
is that you're in
a free fall
and you left your
parachute back here
with me
and who you used to be.

like a religion

i'm not waiting for a sign from God
i'm not expecting for the sky to open up
and to rain answers down on me
i have no expectations of simplicity and ease
i am not counting on miraculous healing

cause my chest is still cracked open
and my heart is hiding from my sleeve
and the hole in my life
is not where you once were
but where i never learned to be

disgust, regret, hatred, and shame
that's what's coursing through my veins

when i can forget everything
is the only time i can breathe
oblivion is the gleam in my eye
and amnesia is what i wish for
not on shooting stars, i count on shooting blanks

round of applause, and a pause,
a moment of absolute, perfect silence
for feeling completely hollow inside
let's make that moment,
that still, that hush,
that point of realization, confession
and absolution
last forever.

Look Alive!

the word "myth" keeps popping up -
uglier than a bad habit
hits harder than
a fist to the cheek, chin, or teeth

and my heart's beating
like the end is looming
my tears feel the pressure
perfection is suffocating
and in the eye of
someone i can only call foe

and i can only
shake the images
illustrated memories
with blunt force and a haze
otherwise
they're clear as day
here to stay

but i sugar coat
and i blow over
and black out all the pictures
and fill up the voids
or the negative space
immense, intense, and brutal
death valley pales
there is no survival rate

but there are no words
there are no words
there's nothing left to be spoken

"look alive, look alive!"
he said
"it's not your time to die!"
but she's
standing in the ruins
somewhere close to
the end of the world
screaming, asking "why?"

babygirl, babygirl
cause they don't
and the won't care
not. one. bit.