parting

when you took my hand you let your fingers

linger on mine a little longer than usual

made me think you were saying goodbye

much like

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

 

break

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 

and

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

birth

that foam hung around for a long time

this 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

and

when he told that story

it was the only time

I ever saw him cry

duty

this beaten down shell of a woman 

the one with the grandest dreams 

grew tired of seeing her shadow at the bottom

and

let the violins lead her out of the water

to take a walk under the August sun 

 

unafraid to 

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

like me

can’t

 

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 

striped shoulders.

I can’t even stand to stand anymore.

The gorilla on my back just keeps 

getting older. 

I can’t even love my words anymore. 

They just sit here pretty like, 

as a constant reminder that 

I just can’t anymore.

 

 

 

crestfallen

that sadness always hits us like a brick

hear its calls louder when there are fewer

distractions to keep our dull minds at bay

sadness that wears on us like blankets

heavy, smelly, making us suffer and smolder

stifling, because it’s always summer here

 

you say you want to feel it though

swim in it, surrender to it

hear its taunts that test you

so you’ll grow, you always do

you’ll defeat it, and like its own season

it’ll pass

 

dear crestfallen one,

I’m proud of you, I’m grateful for you

as I try to feel hope instead of this weight of despair

that sadness just seems to hit us so hard

each and every time

as I count down the seconds that I can call you mine

 

 

defeated

broken

before she peels herself out of bed

counting the minutes before she’s back there

hears the chatter outside her head,

but she ignores it, sighs

looks out the window

wills herself out there…

to go wherever they’re going

wonder what his cigarette tastes like

wonder how that ink feels flush against the skin

blush, have to look away

wonder if that was a sin

 

surely she’s more than this

to just sit here, sit here and just exist

to take up this space

longing to have the laughter last

waiting for life to return to her face

she wishes herself to be anywhere,

any place else, away from this chaos

but alas, she remains, sighs

broken

before she peels herself out of bed

i forgot

I’m an object, I’m a thing

far from a human being

but

I feel the pain again

I swam so much, I

forgot how to swim

let me just rot away

wishing for another day

 

I’m an object, I’m a thing

far from a human being

but

my ears buzz with every scream

I dreamt so much, I

forgot how to dream

my arms are torn

damn flesh is worn

 

I’m an object, I’m a thing

far from a human being

but

tonight my soul took flight

I cried so much, I

forgot how to cry

pointless words spoken

my only heart broken

 

I’m an object, I’m a thing

far from a human being

but

I saw the ghosts turn into the willow trees

I was so much, I

forgot how to be

abandoned, dead inside

no breath left, but still alive

here

I feel like I’m on an island

all alone,

in this stupid paradise

been here 5 years

since we ran from the corn and ice

but I was happy then

it wasn’t perfect but we had a life

 

I miss people, I miss talking

in that wonderful coffee shop

you know, the one next

to the bookstore that looked like a vault

instead I’m here

placing blame, saying, it’s not my fault

 

Now surrounded by palm trees

and endless sun, I’m here

crestfallen, and jumping out of my skin

when the coconuts fall

stopping fast when the lizards zip past

having baby panic attacks in the shower

when distant door slams sound like blasts

 

But I’m trying – here in paradise

missing your laugh, missing mine

while fixing my margarita or

pouring my wine

I’m here regretting the years

we’ve lost to Old Man Time

 

I feel like I’m alone on an island

and

I’ll remember the golden aura

around the moon

as you go your own way

I’ll remember all the wonderful

things we wanted to do, someday

here, alone on this island

I’ll remain, I have to stay

 

 

away from this

Baby girl,

I read that you wanted to run 

away from this, away from him

never me, never us

Go ahead and run baby girl

run as far from here

away from him, away from this 

Baby girl,

it broke my heart to hear you cry

sitting far from our crumbling house

our poor aching house 

we hear its moans in the middle of night

it interrupts our conversations

with its whispers of fright 

walls with holes so deep we want to crawl in

to escape this, to escape him 

Crawl in and weep for years and years 

then crawl back out to ask,

Is it over yet?”

but no one is there to answer back 

the house is empty 

all that’s left is the fear

that fear could live for a million years