from bed, silenced

words this week have hid under umbrellas knowing the reign of heavy hands is here to stay

you pushed me

conversations could have climbed to new look out points

brushes with death that would force our will and silence your breath

you decided to continue on a path carved years ago

rehearsed

tired

uninspired dinner plate

presentations left with no opinion as to how we can change

it isn’t a matter of rearranging where the chicken and couscous sit it’s unpacking new entertainment that doesn’t require barbed wire side dishes with every ‘how are you’ well wishes and can’t we stop and look before we eat

did the calendar change again?

suspended from the will to see drawn out sentences sorting on a canopy protecting your side of life i only imagine

Shields up!

the cavalry is coming

unfortunately

you weren’t looking

weapons were left home and they were here to carry you

away

yet, here you stay crouched with dismay grimacing at those who love you

you didn’t miss the boat,

you dug a moat

we stopped trying to cross

from bed, feet in my back

waiting outside your door

i only knocked once

i heard shuffling without getting up

so i picked up my face and skirted away undressing every memory you taught me to display so they’d see what you wanted

i’m drifting now

place to place in hopes of finding space where i can stretch and feel the sorrow

memories of when we were whole with ripped jeans, rubbing knees, feeding my finger under the fray

wiggling waiting for you to stay fixed on where we were

then the drugs kicked in

you saw everyone was just like me

i lost you

i kept pounding amnesia up my nose

and sticking your warm body blankets in-between my toes so they wouldn’t see what we meant when we said we were up late

on a routine romantic date

capturing more reasons to slink down the path of fragmented trials and miles of guile that we kicked through on our way home

a silver stained sink, scared sofas and a toilet we deserved

i saw the way out

you couldn’t seem to find your shout against earlier year disasters falling in your face that shamed you to believe that was your place

a place to pace and try to erase

unfortunately

you only wrote in sharpie

i want to see you again

begin this thing again

but what i want and you give are sneaking down our dirty life sieve slowly draining my desire to battle with your friend

i can’t see him again

i wish you well

keep the lights dim

from bed, waiting in line

i stood in line yesterday waiting for the reason

a man at the front focused on confusion was whispering in sign seekers ears

he claimed he could clearly define the reason we are here

hedge my bets

give it a try

touch the liar to get to the sky

signs will always point to unclear

when we shake up plastic canisters that capture temptation

i ate off your plate

cold and dry

condiments couldn’t cut through the cancer causing changes you promote pushing away decency for hope and a flag left on the ground waiting for someone else’s definition of that burial mound where good intentions fell asleep and were covered in dirt gladly heaped on by those trying to heal

i left line before getting to his lies

the whispers were deafening

i need to be punished by the screams

it’s my fault

from bed, groggy

jack hammers hit the floor as i close the door and contemplate the endless question “what for”

why do i write of loss and pain lightening disasters and fleeting rain when moments i claim are spent walking with flowering dahlias caught in green house clusters providing a memory when daylight fostered times i spent with you and you and you

home

that’s four of us looking in drawers to discover the way we can be if left alone in our freshly

planted tree born from seeds that joined in figure eights-fantasies’ perfection in infinity clashing with hope that dashed from end zone to end zone waiting for a whistle

that never comes

we did it

this thing

we can’t be done

we’re doing

pronouns to puncture the singularity of gobbling guilt from every family dinner plate knowing we can’t be late to the very important date that rabbits whisper in our ear

we’ll rise together from this table

more stable and able to disable the. fake eyebrow gleams of bellyaching screams searching for a wall to bounce from

and back

and forth

and back

now north

and back

we go

to challenge the undertow and swim free

from a couch, garbage and committed

Woke up feeling the comfort of tube sock day dreams when all i had to do was smile and you would catch my fear in the side of your cheek where your tongue once lived

it’s not easy

feeling the sideways charm of one whose reach is made to teach more than me

i’m selfish

it’s hard to share the chair with those who stare at the sound of a snare as i rump pump into the room lost to the fake eyed gloom of ones who take advantage of carousel emotions dipping so low the high is unmatched

standing by crying

wishing you would even out

and stay put

stop losing yourself in dead arm survival kits created for match stick boys who can’t even carve decoys worth luring those flying south to sit in a pond of filth fucking water waiting to be shot

why bother

it’s got to clear

this constant window craving

lights blinking

on off on off on off on stop off on quit off on

for me to hold them a little longer

from bed, gibble garble. nonsense. bleh.

compare

contrast

dare

give me the test

sunshine stains on the window sill reminded me

what is now fades

unless we pull the shades

a private good night spoken before i role and clutch my pillow

eventually opening my eyes to everything else but you

surprise to tell

it’s nothing new

lying next to me

i can hear, see, and smell the memory

living

we run to the sidelines panting and heaving every misgiving a syndrome worth relieving to relish in relativity

light coming down from this time

we squeezed every drop and forgot to taste the satisfaction fixed on a grandmothers face try to find a request that doesn’t involve delivering some thought of catching contraband born humans picked up in furniture stained houses sipping capri sun and downing doritos when widows watched predawn news with hope of making it to the mid day blues of soap opera clashes and drama flashes just open the windows and look outside clyde is leaving fran’s house and they aren’t friends unless without her blouse i see that as i hide in a corner feeding with a mouse-foreigner squabbling for cheese to please the me’s that i forget to be when dolly madison licked her finger and put a new spin on dessert from plastic unwrap and go back to basics i need a new fix to fund my figurine collection that sits in a panting shelf waiting for you to remember me at christmas where my list is deserted by the pressing need to make sure you’re happy and i have greed

speed up time and get out of this situation trapped by elation i want to be sad again fueling my rages and art kept in cages for this part where happiness actually exists and i pine for kicking stones alone catching the eyes of a girl on a phone who notices i can’t continue on wishing for the day a paper mache donkey gets smacked around and rains candy all over those gorgeous mop headed dolts pretending this tradition belongs to them then sitting in your den waiting for warm meat and dancing clowns to create a version of popping sounds that can’t be traced to ancestral roots flutes playing bach was boring and i need to cut my toe nails

thought about you this morning

the words left me so i kept pouring over the page in utter nonsense

from bed, i need work

caress the images i left behind

it may be the last time you feel free enough to engage with me

i didn’t want to leave… where we started

an endless first kiss tongue dance with no hands

lost in brain chemistry and other people’s poetry, songs that broke time barriers as winter blankets steadied the shiver between a floor-heater’s cycles and our rising and falling blood pounding excursions into flesh felt thank you’s and one day i do’s

we couldn’t have known

it would have upended the trial by smile we shared when you asked if loneliness made me scared

i didn’t like the way you yelled

i remember thinking as you felt compelled to uncover your red face over a roommates propensity to use your curling iron

i’m thinking too much now

caught up in how this sounds

early months and years i was drinking too much you stayed in touch knowing there was, maybe, something redeeming with all this late night passing out after a final doubt that i missed the way it felt to be held by someone who cared enough to wrap around this drugged out heap of flesh casket bound and unleashed, friend’s, foe’s and stranger’s eyes judging the one who got naked for you, not just you, everyone in the bar night after night avoiding a fight wondering why morning coffee pissed me off and tore up my insides i couldn’t get up i fell until the next bell carried in the smell of hell in truth i must tell you i was fine all along lost in a song over and over crimson and clover they gathered around. that was the truth. they were gathering

not around me

self importance mixed with pity gives you this poetry shitting out of my head a way to communicate i’m not quite dead

actually, very much alive and thriving yet still on this coil wanting to be seen proving something to somebody every fucking day. look at me. did you see that? i wish i were more like you camouflage depressed not wanting shit from anyone. we know that’s not true i grew up a few when i put down the brew. it wasn’t even alcohol it was control. loss of it and now i rearrange the toilet paper in a woven basket by the sink and that somehow gives me more comfort than vodka and coke. where have i come? where the fuck do i go. smiling in this exhibition just hoping one of you will say. genuinely. please stay. wrapped up in me. for a little longer

please, will you judge me as if i just slit my throat?

will you ask those questions now?

why?

why would he?

how could he?

what did he do?

then i step away realizing i don’t need that, yes i do, what a waste of false desire to be self important and left trapped in another’s thoughts for that lingering moment after we leave this conversation of the mundane. yet it says what i can’t in plain clothes. just fucking leave me alone while we’re together

i want that unspoken desire to live longer.