I want to build a house by the coal sea.
You say Mr. Take Awayer won’t find us
there by the dark sea that rocks us to sleep.
Mr. Take Awayer will wear a shabby
garb of white. You tell me he floats sideways
in the contrast of night. Always at night.
By the vast sea I pray his calls are drowned
out by the violent waves and rocky shore.
He beckons to deceive you far from me.
But you won’t hear him I promise. I swear.
I hope you’ll be happy, hope we are too.
When I build a house by the jet black sea
and every night have its torment sway us
to dreamland. Find comfort knowing it could
swallow us. Forgetting this pain on earth.
Hidden afar from Mr. Take Awayer.
think it’s raining
it’s only my tears
hitting the hardwood
falling heavier than
I thought they could
they’ve taken on a
life of their own
my tear drops crying back to me
wanting to bring me home
my tear drops know that
I can’t even speak
can’t even pray
but they know
He knows my thoughts
I don’t have anything
new to say
all the while
thinking it’s raining
when you took my hand you let your fingers
linger on mine a little longer than usual
made me think you were saying goodbye
when you hold the hand
of a loved one that’s about to die
couldn’t be good news I’d think,
the way you just left me
watched you walk away
one part of me not caring
the other part wanting you to stay
red chameleon beckoned me out
entranced me with its glossy glaze
matched the blood that fell from me
walked past the broken grill
with the torn black cover
said hello to the baby leaves
let the purple tendrils wrap themselves
around my knees
“Stay with us forever!”
I pretend to hear them plead
What beautiful, caring creatures – I think
look up at the black
feel the moisture run down my back
marvel that it’s too humid to even breathe
watch the red chameleon crawl into
a place that I cannot go
we all can’t be Alice that gets to fall
into that glorious rabbit hole
look away – rip my eyes from its gaze
feel the purple tendrils unwrap their grip
from my knees
go back into my crumbling house
ignore their saddened stance
ignore their fictitious pleas
that foam hung around for a long time
tickled my arms
tickled my nose
so I couldn’t breathe
reminded me of that time long ago
I held my breath when I was born
held it so long
that they told him I died
when he told that story
it was the only time
I ever saw him cry
big stream of little tears
hands shaking off
the grieving left
but now I’m waiting
for it all to come back to me
God – please don’t let it
come back to me
let the child that I now see
i welcome a miraculous mystery
this beaten down shell of a woman
the one with the grandest dreams
grew tired of seeing her shadow at the bottom
let the violins lead her out of the water
to take a walk under the August sun
journey for days on end without sleep
burdened with thirst but not take a drink
until that duty called her back in
to cut her feet on those flawed, broken shells
back in to swim with the eels
back to the that beaten down shell of a woman
I can’t even enjoy the rain anymore.
I’m always pacing, reaching for the door.
I can’t even savor my meals anymore.
I’m always eating while standing;
hurriedly chewing and choking.
I can’t even stand my showers anymore.
That water hurts my burgundy
I can’t even stand to stand anymore.
The gorilla on my back just keeps
I can’t even love my words anymore.
They just sit here pretty like,
as a constant reminder that
I just can’t anymore.