Not you, but meNot you, but meI've crossed every stone,A trail through the bay to your heart.Tossed among sunken ships,Just a wreck in your deepest harbor.You're the coral I cut my knee onAnd the salt in its wound.I swam over you at low tide,Should have known not to.Torn at the seam,No comfort in the folds.Just an old towel hanging outOn the porch to dry.I'm a stagnant bay,sand trapped under my tongue.No words to undo.You drew a line as youwalked away from me.Further and further,A distant island hidden by the clouds.
homeMy heart is tetheredbetween wrought ironand quick tempersIn the house, a man was waiting:silver skin, sharp chineating the remains with his corbeau mouthMy cloaked heart slips through the gate,and past March, April, Junemy palms are stained with the smell of rust,dust and rotting wood under my tongue,unopened mail behind each ribWhat's heavy will hurt.I took a small boat awayHalf way thereI lost my oars(abandoned)Flung and tossed like a childinto the channel"Are you afraid of what's below?"you're just froth below the horizon.you're just a speck in timeThe dark whale should swallow me whole,but instead I lay my head in the day's end,like resting on warm thighsMy mother's own.
An owlWhen I was youngerWe moved into the new housemy father built.In the evening an owl flew in.With heavy wingsit threatened us,cutting through the darkwith hardly any room for flight.My sister and Iheld our breathand played dead until myfather came home.When he saw us he laughedwhile we lay stilland then opened all the windowsto let it fly out.
deservethe poisoned branch,I pulled myself up onto see another.now an ant nest in my heartyou stepped in andleft distraught.
By myselfWhen I'm aloneI steal pieces of night.Without another to share,I eat by myself.The meat is spoilt.Only acid in my throat when I wake.
wolfYou resemblesomeone I once knew.A wolf in the darkpressed against my window again.
the netI'm rot.Was sliced at the gill,thrown near the rocksunder sun and flies.Flesh exposed, a little girl with no t shirt on.Dead amongst scavengers.lost my armor all scattered likeand soaked into the stone.Swam into the net.Thought it would get me there fast.
KnivesknivesMy life through the glass,a million pieces scattered (splinters in my thumbs)A spectrum (colours of fear)Forced through me like knives.Here, smoke and doubt intersects false light.A journey queued. Where I had begun.This time aloneWhat am I fighting for?
:apart:Home again today.Where there is no relief.Not to slowly kiss.Once here was my love to fall into,now my days are just steep.Tonight I sleep alone.and time did not settle me.
You're not a failure for failingHer small, anxious handsgrabbed the cup, a bit too largeas it slipped down and tumbled to the ground,the milky mess covering the carpet:her mother let out a disapproving sighand rolled her eyes,“Will you ever do anything right?”and that’s when she beganto limit her aspirations,so that her dreams would never be too large,so she’d never make any mistakesshe’d never again drop the cup,but she’d never have enough to drink.
perspective (distances)under the stars,two solitary figureshuddle apart.head meets shoulderin a vast act of intimateseparationbridging brink to brink,eyes span cavernous silenceand shine;islands entwinedacross a pitch ocean,carelessly eclipsedby the waves.tonightyou move mountains in-articulated seven leaguedesertion.intentions ever fairin tension everfearful.under the stars,two solitary figureshurtle togetherand inevitable,change melts slow;an irrevocable hazeof night curvinginto day.
whispers are a certaintyher utterance swervesin the vanguard of tumultbefore it is moltenand molded into a river of clay,then sculptedinto a bust.(and it neverpanned out the wayshe wanted it to.)this vacillationis an effigyof grandiose statu(r)esand her locution stands tallwhen the barricadesare torn down.it only recoilswhen defensesare dam(m/n)ingbecause weightis not meant to floatin the gravitas of gravity.
crumblingscrowded house,crowded mind;you are a neglectedinfrastructure.there's a road ahead,and it's a broken-down disaster.your steps unsteady,you are opening your eyes.you are coming outof the dark.this isn't what you wanted,but it's time to revise.deterioration,decimation;you are an overrunanarchy.there's a world in you,it's not what you wanted.this isn't what you planned,but it can still bebeautiful.(re)take the city(re)claim the land(re)build.
Fires Like Usmemories flood and a strange fuel chokes its blurry taste into mouths where words and will again, break down and it's here where our ghosts are haunted where the simplest air hosts and feeds fires like us, our orange knives, whittling away the years and miles-behind into memory and it's in this kindled breath that we forget
stay even-keel, even if it killsraptor, raptorraptures wrapped her head in with the rafters.echo bliss with depthuntil she's wrapped upin a bow-tie(d/own)uniform of sober tilting.somber livingand taping rhythmto the wriststhat duct veinslike streams of tape.this is naturaland animal. it's incrediblehow societal cultures can bein countering your feintsof disbelief.this beliefis that realityduct tapesyour echoes of blisswith depthof sober tiltinguniform of sober livingbecause bliss is addictive.and we need all folksdown (to earth)to make sure no oneis higher (than anyone else).
Tears and AshesYou don't need to lie,to make yourself interesting;Or gain some brand of..empathy..Sympathy created this way,is often devastating;Even if pain is commonly..relatable..Your character won't elevate;It'll only deplete..Unraveling faster,than every falsity,that waltzed you into..your next disaster..The lies become,the only consistent..factor..As you throw yourself,into the flames,you lose all the parts that..matter..And when the smoke clearsthe wreckage will be..irreparable..For everything you hoped,to embrace;Will be laid to waste..As everything you lovedabout your coveted lie has been..erased..You sit alone again;Tears and ashes,all you've claimed.
did you hear?you don't speak to me in whispers 'cause you're anti-silence -i stopped reading your lips when i realized the reason you never stop to beat the bated breath from your lungsis you've nothing worth experiencing x p r e s
losing, loathing, lying (solemn lining throats)this isn't a music videoand we're not young millionaires.this is real lifeand you're losing, losing, loathing, and lying(to yourself).swallow it down till it falls away,it never happened. it never happened.swallow it down if all else failsbecause the only thing disappearingis your actuality,not the reality of a soulnever making it to fruition.and as an outsider, bystander, i understand her,but you're her foreverand you letting it fall apartand i can't bear to witness this stuportake hold of the wheelwhen neither of you are so(m)ber.and if death (or disappearance)cannot steady you,it is time to treaddifferent waters,rather than the onesyou've soaked yourselves infor far too long.
without a goodbyethis is the last time.just empty space and time passingbetween us.I am at the other end of the room,and you have opened all the windowsand doors to let yourself out.