26 February, 2013

I'd Rather Be Home

Memories rise in my throat
Like an acid sort of bile-
So many things I can't explain
And a dull ache in my head.
My mouth feels full of cotton,
My dreams, I fear, won't help.
The chip on my nails,
The bite I can't repress,
All these things set
My teeth on edge,
As lately they always
Do seem to be.
So empty of water,
So glad for my pencil-
I wish I could
Describe this better,
This tingle in my bones
This ripple across my skin.
It's like I've been
Locked in a closet
And my skeletons surround,
Can't gain my footing
For the shoes piled.
It's like I'm stuck
In a tent that is
Too small and stuffy,
But the zipper won't budge
And the ground is hard.
Will I sleep?
Will I dream?
Will I cry
Or inside scream?

22 February, 2013

In Me

If you think I don't,
Think again-
If you think I lied,
Think twice.
If I didn't care,
Would I be here?
Would I still bleed?
What and why
Would I still write?
I dwell, and I think,
And I labor in silence,
I consider it all again.
No matter the past,
Long ago or closer,
I can't stop it-
I could sooner stop
Eating or breathing,
Talking or singing.
I can't help but care,
I can't stop thinking
And feeling
And feeling sorry:
But from me and
From you, we each want-
Nothing? Everything?
The old or the new?
In every breath of air,
In each single sight I see,
In the ground and the trees
And the music- in me.

21 February, 2013


Ahh, and here it comes again.
Half a test, if that.
Perhaps naturally might
It happen tonight,
Sooner and lesser
Than I had planned.
Worse in the long term?
Will it still be
Quick and close?
Few words deny hate,
Reflecting my own.
My rib cage tenses,
Filled with anxiety-
And again I realize
How few words it
Takes to make me jump.
So little has changed.
All is, as has passed.
Will they even look,
Once comes the time?
How well will I hide?
I'm wearily wary,
Eager but dreading,
And all is conflicted.
Where is my music?
That gin and kerosene?
Wow, is it messed up,
A slap across the face
But I know I can't awake,
Chewing on my tongue
And now my bed stares.
Everything is hers,
She owns it all.
She is queen of the world,
While I am only
A torn little girl.

19 February, 2013

Life and Eye

Slightly, a little of
Paper and pen,
Tonic and gin.
Softly, a short breath
To carry a word,
To say what I heard.
My time running out,
Teeth bite my mouth,
And essence draws closer,
Closer, pressing,
Curse or blessing.
Panic settles,
Pots and kettles.
Eyes are wide,
Lips the same-
Will I be thrilled
Or crushed I came?
Even that, I cannot.
Many times though
I have tried,
A few of them with
Time to bide:
Time to hide?
Saw my beams
And take my blades,
Say your quotes
And make your trades.
Tooth and life and eye,
Earth and wind and sky.

Short and Sour

I haven't a clue why I hold you,
What secrets you still have
To unlock for me.
I can't describe just what I think,
I don't know the truth from lies.
Today, one voice almost
Forced me into tears,
And the constant chatter
Puts me ever on edge.
Renewed themes scroll me,
Knock me at the door.
I have so little time,
And I fear she'll again
Be proven right.
Still unknowing what I want;
But you'll talk me through, won't you?

04 February, 2013


Sweating though my feet are cold,
Fighting phone calls and cold coffee.
Crackly music pounds the walls,
And somehow a green dot has me on edge,
I think because of that song.
It's painfully quiet today,
The world tipped and crooked.
Headache or caffeine crush?
I need a clearer, an eraser,
And usually this will have to do.
To fling it from my mind,
Withdraw it to be placed in this Pensieve.
He's hiding and quiet-
Calm or something different?
Avoidance, or not even paying attention?
I feel somehow drenched,
Like I've spent too long in the shower
Trying to wash myself away.
As many times as I try and deny,
I come around again to the same.
Maybe she is right (she usually is).
But can I take that chance?
Can I forgive and forget?
Is that even what I want?
(Of course it is)
But it's not!
It runs through my head so many times,
The same few things, asleep or awake.
Greetings and the fight,
The offer or the fortunate mishap.
And him.. I don't know.
Something keeps slipping from my mind,
And I think this it is that scares me most.
Why can't I remember, or pretend,
In my dreams or my days?
Because if I don't...
I'm terrified of what that might mean.
For all of us.
I hope, I wish, it is merely oversight-
An unknown, perhaps, a Nessie of sorts.
I may never really know,
For if I do,
That would mean the worst.