the silence between the seconds

quick break

shz got hr pain

dangling

from hr lips

as she wraps them

around the

tip and sucks

the poison in.

 

this iz hr

            addiction.

 

 

Its what she

Doez

When shz

Away from the rest of us.

 

She rememberz the dust of

The desert she used to flourish in.

Endless sands from time passed,

Where she still was able to breathe sweetly.

The place where the rain brought morning after beauty.

Both dry and aive at the same time.

 

 

Shz been drowning

Lately,

Fighting to keep

Hr head

Above water.

 

She chokes on the flooding

Stinging

Salty sea.

 

This body

Of water without the other side in sight

            is a little too much

For hr.

 

the bottlecap headz of hr drink fall over and roll

into the sink.

She can’t think

like this.

 

Shez fighting for the sunlight heat,

She needz to see

that she

can breathe, too.

 

 

She exhales stale possibilities.

Resting on the tomorrow that will alwayz come.

And stares hr dull life in the eyez.

Kisses it goodnight.

 

 

And gets on with it.

mama’s springtime song

searching for growth without the help of photosynthesis,

mama cut off hr cnnection with the sun.

shz tired of fighting through the burnt layerz,

she don’t wanna push through.

 

So she gonna sit an wait until itz too dark to remember

The rolling hillz of laughter

And the moonlight that lit up eyez wide,

Blinded by hope.

 

She gonna sit tight until itz too overgrown to decipher

Codez laced with intricate grace

That lived once,

Because the wind pushed hr on.

Like pollen caught upon the wingz of chance,

The bee that landed and started to dance

And soiled death’s last

Try.

Soil scorched with feet that leapt against the current’s beat.

 

It’s hard to find sprouts of hope

Buried beneath burnt branches of chances,

Grown from seeds of dreams.

 

Sh’ll repopulate eventually,

When the naysayers have passd on.

 

Sh’ll have a new song

Of new life

To give birth to.

 

[ death ] sentence

sh’ll look at you

through half-closed eyez,

while the better part of hr

fantasizes about all

the possibilities

that have been graciously offered to hr.

 

tell hr,

while staring directing at hr

half-hidden soul,

            tucked behind tired lidz,

tell hr,

sh’ll be

okay.

 

cnvince hr to believe in

The next day.

 

That                                    eventually

Sh’ll be okay.

 

 

 

And though hr eyez may keep out all the darkness,

Sh’ll beg for frgiveness

Until she can open hr third eye

wide.

She needz to see

All

Potential;

The possibilities that

Whit light cn give.

 

Sh’ll reform over and over

Until she gets it right.

Sh’ll fight until shz earned the right

To stand

On feet

born to dance.

 

 

Shz afraid of waiting too long

To say what she needz to.

Before hr half-closed eyez keep out

Hr voice,

The one that needs speaking to.

 

There’z so much for hr to spit from hr lips,

If only for a micromoment of bliss

Sh’d be able to kiss

Hr problemz

Goodbye,

Maybe sh’d be able to breathe.

 

And not so afraid of

Opening

hr eyez.

 

 

 

Itz not the same

If you need to speak about yr strengths,

You gotta

Be able

To,

Simply,

Be

strong.

 

 

Even if the song was written in a minor key,

You ought to let yr sensibilities fly

With passing time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

She needz to be able

To enjoy

Life

 

 

For az little time

 

Shz allowed left.

 

restless

Pull a blanket over my head.

Let my mind rest a bit.

Tuck my muffled voice in the discomfort that seeps into my dreams.

 

I just wanna wake up and see my reflection

Without exhaustion

Written

All over my face.

 

I’m wasting away,

Hating every waking breath.

 

I confess,

I spend hours lying in bed

Wishing daylight had never come.

That I was done

Attempting to break down the glass in my lungs.

That I could fall asleep without weeping.

 

If I’m to live in darkness,

Than let me enjoy it.

Give me a soft pillow

And a blanket of down

To drown my thoughts in.

hz shade of blue

as his house fills with the faint music of the past,

he sits and wonders if

perhaps the music

issues in

a promise for  good future.

a promise

perhaps

that includes

happiness…

 

but this is something he will have to get used to,

something that is unfamiliar.

 

Like repenting for crimes too similar

To those he’ll commit in his future.

Too ingrained in his impulse.

 

He’ll limp towards a lamppost,

With the bluez on the tip of hz lips.

Patiently waiting for true love’s kiss,

And bathe in the shadows of orange moonlight.

 

Tonight’s the night

To drench himself in the Lady’s mood.

He’ll ask about those who

Choose to convict,

And get lost in hr addiction instead.

 

Happiness is for the few

Who give themselves up to

True depth in two or three lines

Of rhyme.

And a little bit of

Blind faith.

anonymously yours

It’s simply

beautiful.

 

Hr hand

that rests upon hz chest

To remember

the Rise

and Fall

Of hz breath,

While hr imagination quiets

For a few moments

Of rest.

 

 

This is how they find peace.

 

 

She keeps hr pounding heart

Tucked inside hr chest

To forget how easy

It could be

To call this something else.

 

 

Giving it a name

Would take

The beauty

From their simplicity.

So let it be.

Let it exist

In anonymity.

sobriety

Carved lines

Empty bottles of wine

Cigarette burns.

 

It’s the crooked turn

Of my favourite addictions

That make me see

A little bit straighter.

 

There’s no rehab for people like me,

The ones who see life differently.

Like a kaleidoscope of sound.

 

I have found myself

Drowning in the madness of understanding.

 

I think too much.