standard lines and lies you cast in our direction believing we will miss your conception of someone else who is the you we can’t get too close to in narrow hallways where sausage factory fingers like to play hide-and-go seek

this revelry with mysterious friends is why i keep the magnetic lies you steep far away from ferris wheel faces and more intelligent people, drinking more intelligent tea

you actually believe what comes out of your mouth?

it’s easy to lose track of the conjured cradles you create when everyone covets and covers forging a fate while not pausing to wait and contemplate whether you are the real mother of mentally ill mantras that no one else wants, you form those you wish to heal. sicken them so you can deal another hand of ‘we’re doing our best’ i make sure to keep close to my vest any reality and feelings i ingest, cause i know you will nest them away for a lying game day when you need to contort yourself through another sick situation brought in with manipulation featuring nothing more than a phony puke headed position of ‘hit me’

we gathered around the counter on tuesday mornings waiting for a final resolution to all the promises you broke spending money and listening to me as i poke another under the table where legs were rubbed and lies were held in foam topped mugs a shot of you left over from dinner with scraps on the floor a dance with candor in a house where eric once lived, a series of stacked bricks where outside hunches a pig named oliver blowing with the wolves – he just wants a little more.

you disagree.

I do too.

black spots dance before my eyelids heavy and i scream for my keys

unlock this gate guarding my final fate

you shrunk

it’s ok it’s just that i was getting used to the sway when the breeze would catch you just right

a tilt to the left during events when someone shouted caustically about stylistic tendencies of your immediate family

caring deeper for the franchise than the surprise in your eyes when grafted pineapple trees produced something sweeter than this life you’ve loved

bending, holding up and stretching out crashing to the tempted floors when he walked in again pointing fingers and wreaking of sin the dirty bastard bible thumping in a rest area for no one but those who can keep a bathroom clean

what does that mean to us out here picking up debris wishing saturday you’d see it’s them not you and certainly me that can’t wish against the tiny freeze that stuns you silent

i’ve given up the night miracle walks we were going on, the ones we grew up in

i catapulted to capitulation

now i’m out of that situation

fingers rest easy when i’m alone

that’s a lie as they fly through my phone pleading ‘see me’ is anyone home is there anyone aware? can i care and create this thing we mistake for attention seeking its my breath breaking strike against a fake good night knowing you might capture my fright in a single sound shaking sight

she didn’t want to close the door on her own

but, no one else was there

it was past the time feet shuffled through moldy carpet on their way for one last check before entering a place free from the distraction of caring about other people in far away places carrying suitcase souls for their next vacation

isn’t there enough vitamin c where you live can’t you count the pages of dollar store books on a piece of land designed for you and the other two who bring something different in the way you walk down shrouded side streets waiting for penniless children to speak, and you laugh and think ‘how cute’ their trying to appear not mute to the blind extravagance you go back to in a world of space lit psychopaths eating dinner with politicians carrying out agendas for counter intelligence cultural cock suckers crowding our personal space with information blasts riling crowds to spill over

gorilla theater

we can’t even speak to one another when truck lines blur in panty raid exercises, get out of may face i want to feel alive, grabbing my own arm to slice tracks making sure this stupid fucking show is real can i crawl back in the mountains without hearing the rev of atv fuel racers climbing tracks that take away my next trek into reconnecting with something that doesn’t shout or pour or complain of gout a rich persons disease for not understanding how to say please with something other than a coin or bill. i wouldn’t reach through my window sill to hand you a busted pill to ease your anxiety of not knowing how to talk to me

close the door

purple

am i suppose to describe it?

purple?

blankets that fell ill to this awful hue after you decided to wrap my trust too tight spilling out secrets clustered in passionate pulse places where people weren’t suppose to be

i was vulnerable

we ate dinner in gathered clothes

they weren’t all mine

i knew that

words you willed into me

guided thoughts

fans running high blowing them around the room haphazard chimpanzees ruining your carpet fed by thinking too much

put the plate down and go for a forkful of laughter in light of guiding his emotions for your own convenience i stop and stutter walk too much

glide in this cache of ruins you created to culture dominance in foreign fed freckle faced fucks i need to get away from creating doorways to alleys where light hasn’t peeked in years i’m not sure i could tell you how to get there this blanket keeps showing up and wants to talk to me it’s pissed on and bled through could we meet tomorrow to unwrap the past

i’m busy right now getting out of bed

peeling off the white plastic sheets is proving to be difficult

listen

purple

you will always be remembered

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

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

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

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

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