Run

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Run

Run away little one

from the monsters under your bed

Run away little one

from the noises that breed dread

Run away little one

from the hereditary stupor

Run away little one

from life’s ever-changing youth-neuter

Run away young man

from mother nature’s inevitable change

Run away young man

from innocence as it becomes estranged

Run away young man

from life’s beginning design of your cage

Run away young man

from hormones as they begin to disengage

Run away Gentleman

from the agony those around you inflicted

Run away gentleman

from the way your heart’s conflicted

Run away Gentleman

from everything that’s not self-scripted

Run away Gentleman

from anything that’s not easy and predicted

Run away sad man

from this mess you’ve made

Run away sad man

from my love and all that it has displayed

Run away sad man

from the stabs of imperfection with their sharp blades

Run away sad man

from your own mind’s disappointment and the bed where you now lay

Run away old man

from the signs that you missed

Run away old man

from the regrets that you now list

Run away old man

from the sadness that you now try to resist

Run away old man

from all of her tears you created but now dismiss

Run away old man

from the haunting memories of her kiss

Run away old man

from the tic-tock of the clock

it dwindles down faster now

as the last ship comes into dock

No more running now

you can’t change your past

you can’t change the black & white, nor the contrast

You’re a memory now, flowers lay at your feet

A straight-line breeze of a life…left behind incomplete..

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I Wish

I wish.

I wish I could go back.

Back to when we were happy. Back to when that connection I thought we had was everything to me.

During this pain, there have been times where I wish I could go back and never respond to that first message.

I have wished to unlove you.

In my lowest points, I’ve caught myself wishing I was enough.

In my angrier points, I’ve wished you were enough.

I wish I could go back.

I wish I could go back.

Back to when I’d catch you looking at me, and I truly believed that it was true love you were feeling as glared at me.

It’s replaced now in my mind.

I think back to those moments and can only see you thinking to yourself, debating, measuring me up like I’m on an auction table.

I wish I could go back.

I wish I could feel that heat that I felt so intensely in the beginning.

I wish I could soak up the passion as we met after not seeing each other for 3 weeks.

I long to feel that sensual yearn.

Instead, I am cursed with a new yearn.

I yearn for this pain to be over.

I’ve contemplated taking matters into my own hands.

Because I wish.

I wish I didn’t feel this.

I wish.

I wish this never happened.

I wish people and you would stop saying that it’s going to be ok.

It’s not ok.

I’m not ok.

I wish.

I wish it was.

I wish I was.

I wish I could have seen truth sooner.

Who has this love made me?

All this work I’ve done on myself and this love I thought was so powerful.

I felt.

I felt I was the best version of myself that I have ever been.

I had to be wrong. Right?

How could that be?

How could that be when the me now sits here, greasy hair, eyes so puffy and swollen that my vision is blurred.

This is the best version of me?

I wish.

I wish I could go back.

I wish I could go back to 5 years of caring and nurturing and feeling more unappreciated than I had or have ever felt.

I wish I could go back.

I wish I could go back to tiptoeing around you for so many years.

You could call me a ballerina.

Ironic.

Because I stumble over flat surfaces.

I wish.

I wish you would have healed and been truly ready for my love before you sought me out.

I wish I could go back.

I wish I could go back and shake myself to attention when each and every red flag was waved in my face like a surrender.

I wish.

I wish I couldn’t think. Just for one night.

I wish I couldn’t imagine in detail all the ways that you’ve hurt me.

I wish.

I wish I knew why.

I wish.

I wish to forget.

I wish to amnesia myself into ignorance.

I wish.

I wish you were a better man.

I wish.

I wish I could truly answer why I’m still at this house.

You know, the one we made a home?

You know, the one we seeded gardens at?

You know, the one where we made love and built love?

You know, the one where we’ve both known near death sickness?

Do you remember laying in that bed, near death, unable to do for yourself?

I wish.

I wish you could have been in my mind.

I pureed your food by hand.

I cleansed your body, even parts of you that probably no woman, other than your mother had been that close to.

I wish.

I wish I knew then that your love for me had already faded and been shaken.

I wish.

I wish I wasn’t a fool.

I wish.

I wish you were capable of the love I’ve felt for all of these years.

I wish.

I wish you were capable of feeling the same pain and heartbreak that I now feel.

I wish.

I wish I could say I could forgive you.

I wish.

I wish that I could say that we will get through this.

I wish that you could have just kept your eyes on me, as I have kept mine on you.

I wish.

I wish I didn’t love you, like you didn’t love me.

A Mother’s Cry..

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My whole world has become complacent lately. Feeling like a machine with my heart renewed on an assembly line by a conveyor belt each day only for it to be broken into pieces once again. Broken heart after broken heart. I am a born again living dead girl. Floating around preparing myself for the next jab. A pride carried from a naive heart who only felt she had gotten at least one thing right in her fragile, brittle life.

Take that molded rug right out from under me. Over and over again until the bends of these knees that have prayed for you shatter in two. While I lay here, a puddle of poison and battered, I will finally admit to myself that it was a facade.

With every strength and effort in me to break a cycle and do it better than those who had come before me, I have seemingly failed. I lied to myself and continue to do so. And since that was the only good that was ever in me, I’m emptied of a want to. I am hollowed with a who am I. I am robbed of a purpose.

Convinced now that I everywhere I turn, everything is polished before I get there, and rusted out by the time I pass through.

Damaged goods. Homeless.

How does one who is broken time and time again, die inside, and then awaken again to die once more but never stay dead?

When I said I’d take the pain of this world off of you if I could, I never knew or imagined that it would mean that I would take not only the pain, but the weight of every ocean, the blame, and every ounce of hate and resentment that had passed through the vicinity of us.

But even so, torn limb from limb, I steady myself to stand once again with half the sun rising on my beaten face, to take my place on that front line once more.

A failure badly bruised, mentally paraplegic, and dead but still breathing; prepared without hesitation to do it again. And again.

A maternal love is unfailing, unwavering. At least that is what it’s supposed to be. And maybe you’ll never see it in me, or find any sense of pride in my silent and suffering efforts, but I will press on in it in hopes that in the end, you will awaken to the knowing of how profound the possibility is of someone, who is so broken, numb, and beat down, could still love someone else and fight for someone else with an unfathomable, immeasurable, unfaltering, unconditional, and powerful will to live again, and also still love someone else with an entirety and unbreakable spirit, while unable to look at her own self in the mirror.

Live fully, my sweet joy. Live powerfully as my favorite chapter. I’ll be here fighting it for us. And always loving you out loud and working through the dead in me silently.

And even when you didn’t think I cared, or don’t think I care, I have loved you and will love you with every fiber and every second of my existing…

Ghost Lover

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You rip my blouse without evening touching me..

Sweat drips from my body without a single finger laid upon it.

How can I be running down this path in the woods feeling both euphoria and the deepest saddness

I have ever felt, at the same time..

You arch my back without being in the same room with me.

My thoughts of you seem to tide me over until the next time our fingers are puzzle-pieced together

Once again..

You lips must be dry and empty, because they haven’t been placed upon mine in some time now.

What is this love but a clawing in my skin?

I can’t stop it. I don’t want to.

I want it to rip me open like a machete hacking its victim with care and caress.

I want it to take me to a daydream that is inescapable.

Unavoidable…inevitable….ineluctable…ineliminiable….inexorable….

In all of the ways that I have tried to fight it, I want it to consume me in a finality and completeness.

You run your hands violently around my throat without even speaking to me.

I won’t stop wanting.

I am stuck in this eternal loop of yearning.

I could speak unlimited words and ways that your lack of want makes me want more.

It causes me to disgust myself so much so that I don’t who is looking back at me in the mirror that

I regularly make it every point to avoid.

For God’s sake…..want me.

Want me or end me. For good.

Ravish me or push me off this cliff.

Because the pulsating within my body has became too much to bare.

Too much to relieve.

You burn my skin with those eyes. They don’t look at me. And when they do,

they burn a hole straight through me.

I’m reaching out for you.

Strip me bare and naked and do what you must.

In an instant, I’ll drop what task I am pretending, and I will rake this kitchen table of each item.

If you would only slam our bodies into it.

You take everything from me without even noticing you took it..

I am swollen and sore, without you even getting up from your chair.

My imagination is drowning in thoughts of places I am not.

A preoccupation of sorts that is destroying me when I snap back to this empty room.

I try to remember what our hands feel like clasp together….

I chain myself to this chair to prevent myself from making the first move again.

I’ve never been so rejected and so loved and so invisible at the same time.

I don’t love me right now.

I don’t hate me right now.

I don’t know me right now.

Do you?

I am not coming down off this ledge until you make me.

Ball up your fist, and punch me right in the gut.

It is the equivalent of what I feel when I slip through these halls on my own.

I just felt your fingers slowly drift down my chest and stomach….

But you are asleep.

You have ghost hands that follow me around..

Sensing my yearning for just a moment of intimacy from just the tips of your fingers,

Just the slight wetness from your lips.

I want to dilate and descend your pupils just by the moan from the very throat that you are choking

the life from.

Claw these clothes right from my body.

They are simply in the way of the condensation that just your hello drinched me in.

I hear the echoes of our voices from long ago roaming these halls.

They are calling out to us to dance carelessly together, not worrying about the troubles that

Await us tomorrow.

Echo back ghost lover.

Scream into me. Widen my thighs with your standoffishness.

Slap me back into this room with you,

Or continue to break my neck with your silence.

Either way, I love.

Bulletproof, I take every stab. Every claw. Every suffocation you create in me.

Ghost lover, I’ll still be here. Dagger on my side.

I Want To..

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I want to roll in all of the covers that separate our skin.

And I want to relish in each and every moment,

And all of the unknown held within.

This fast-forward motion,

With each day seeming to grow us closer.

This incredible devotion,

This love makes it hard for me to keep my composure.

You tantalize me,

When you aggressively grab my hair.

My body feels so free,

As we give into this laissez faire.

Everything finally feels right,

As we intertwine with every pant.

I want to hold on and grab tight,

Covet every second and breathe in each sweaty chant.

Every stroke of our bodies,

Is so alluring to me.

Forget everything going on, I want to be naughty,

This is serendipity.

Staring down at your dark eyes,

Takes me to another place.

Not scared to strip off my disguise,

And as everything becomes more intense, I want to look right at your face.

Watch me flip my hair back,

As I treat every inch of you how you deserve.

I want you pulled so close to me,

Not missing anything and making sure this is something we preserve.

Even though we’re finished my love,

I want to lay right here on your chest,

And you tell me right now this is kismet,

As your skin presses on my breast.

I want this every day with you,

And I never want it to end.

Keep looking at me today and always,

Never again having to pretend.

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Seeing Red..

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I see red in the faces,

Of strangers passing on the street.

And red in their shadows,

As they shuffle all their feet.

There’s red in the vomit,

That spews from their mouths.

And you can see the panic on their faces,

Knowing in this red cage, there is no way out.

I see red in the carnage,

This sad world leaves in its wake.

And I see red in its actions,

As it gives less than it takes.

You see red all around her,

Choking away her bright blue eyes.

No one hears, and no one sees her,

As the darkness muffles her cries.

I see red drip from her teeth,

As she claws through another day.

You see a pretty picture,

And then turn the other way.

I see red in the mystery,

Of what hides behind each smile.

And I see red in the blue skies,

As I climb on another mile.

Tip your hat and mask the splatter,

As you smear each smudge away.

Wipe the red lipstick you woke up in,

Freshen up and start the day.

See each red in all its glory,

Knowing the misery’s intact.

Live each day with every scar like a battle,

Lady warrior, loner, ready for war and the attack.

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Blood Type: Mass Chaos

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Insane in the name of patriotic progress, we shuffle to each location.

Crippling from the inside-out, and being watched by every nation.

A country full of rage and separation, and counting down to implosion,

Almost too lost to be saved, and our souls infected with erosion.

War-torn, and a spinning money-hungry fireball,

The Earth starts spinning in the opposite direction.

The clock is ticking away for the short time left to make amends,

Now starts the days of an insurrection.

The green grass turns brown, and the blue sky turns gray,

And this world offers no more unity.

A nation of talent and opportunities galore,

Every inch of it wasted and empty of a harmonious and capable community.

The volcanos will erupt, and the ground will shake profusely,

There will be no place left to run away,

The violent attacks will be delivered diffusely,

Like an upside down doomsday.

There will be no one to hear your cries,

Those you love will turn without hesitation,

Even the animals will weep as they watch the land die,

And as each human, one by one, give into damnation.

Deserving of Nothing

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I am a heartbreaker

Standing and swaying by myself

I am that dusty, dangerous book

You make sure to purposely leave on the shelf.

I am an acidic weakness

Yet, you still feel a pull

Beating on your chest and fooling you slowly

Setting all the fires, leaving ashes and crippling every rule.

My footsteps leave soot in their wake

And every flip of my hair, a rope with a noose

If you know what’s good, stay away for heaven’s sake,

In the end, I shouldn’t be the one you choose.

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But there’s another side of me

That sits innocently, a victim of my own soul.

Constantly leaving destruction in my own wake,

Always consuming, but never leaving me whole.

Yearning to feel pure love,

Not deserving at all.

Seeming to trip so close to it,

But a magnetic pull always keeping me from the fall.

I want to dance around in a long dress,

And feel like the most beautiful woman in the room.

Float around without worry, sexy and limitless,

Just one day without doom.

But alas I’m a heartbreaker,

hips swaying in a walk away.

Braving shadows alone, no permanent takers,

Shattered pieces, beautiful decay….

Suppression of the Truth

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I am oppressed by the absence of you. You are roaming around in my mind like an out of control ping-pong ball. You are stomping through my chest, ripping away at my heart. The silence is screaming in the mangled words that are forming on the paper in front of me. I can hear your voice echoing, “bye”, over and over, and the sliding of my vehicle skidding down the driveway.

We are but little blimps on the maps of this world. Given one time to try to float where we can. But selfishly, we waste it. Every one of us. We focus on things that fizzle out instead of miraculous opportunities that may be right in front of our noses.

Now, look at us, alone we sit. A very familiar place indeed. This is why the silence continues. The stubbornness of our enjoyment of loneliness. The inspiration of the sadness within it. I feel restless and incomplete. The incompetence of what people call relationships is a mystery to someone like me. For me, there’s an investment of time built around the knowledge and adventure a person can match with me. I ask nothing of them in a physical or financial sense on purpose. I want it to be an open book, not capable of resentment for miniscule things. No regrets. If it works, then a lifetime of hard-earned happiness has bred itself from a place of pure dedication and partnership. If it does not work, you move on, grateful for the company, new knowledge, and passion fueled by intrigue. You mend your broken heart over time with the same two feet you stood on, on your own. And you remember everything. Because a lesson is truly the most important tribute you can take with you throughout your entire life, even when the season with each person or adventure has passed.

Love is an equivalent to a broad-stroke of freedom from anchors in the water. The waves can break against you even while you smile with the wind in your hair. You weather through each of the rough patches, clinging to a balcony. And when you finally get still again, what remains is what is to move on to the next phase with you.

So, I’ll sit here in meditation. Pain or not. Because it’s not new to me. And when the waves are done breaking against me, and the air around me becomes still again, I will move to the next phase, whatever that may be, with what or who remains by my side. And no matter how difficult that may be or how that may look, I will be grateful for every presence that has crossed my path, and eternally grateful for the lesson that each one taught me. Because each one, uniquely woven, makes up some of the most magical notches on the most beautiful of Orion’s belts in my galaxy. And who could really frown on such a glorious sky?

Here One Day, Gone the Next

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When all the noise around me quiets,

and everyone has gone away,

I kissed you once, I remember,

so I think back on that day.

You brushed the hair away from my brow,

I had used to hide my eyes.

I bowed my head and turned my neck,

hoping you would not see the tears I had cried.

When you pulled away, I hit the floor,

knowing it would never be the same.

And I couldn’t even fathom,

the feeling of loneliness, that would soon be mine to gain.

Oh look, how these stars now taunt me,

the cracks in the moon crease up my skin.

I’m melting from the inside out,

thinking I’ll never see you again.

The sun boils my blood,

and festers my mood,

so I keep myself so busy,

that I won’t have time to notice how much has changed,

and how our love seems to always make me dizzy.

Will we be the lovers standing in the kitchen,

holding on for dear life?

Or strangers in the dead of night,

loving coldly, cutting through life like walking around like dull knives?

Hold me, where are you?

I’m reaching out, running through this maze.

Don’t leave me here,

you hear me screaming,

love me still,

even in our daze…..