Monday, September 08, 2014

May, 2014

I was alive for one moment
When you touched my hand
All the blood rushed to my head
I toppled over 
And never got up again 

Saturday, June 28, 2014

The Picking Moon

gently blushing now
as gravity pulls her in
to a grand adage

the demure rising
long before she says adieu
'til the next harvest

Friday, May 23, 2014

Maybe I won't have to tell you all the things within my infinite heart.
Maybe you will just stand by me and already know.
Maybe you will understand things they never intended there to be words for.
Maybe you'll look me in the eye and that will say enough.
Maybe you will hold my hand and find home between our fingers.
Maybe you'll know what love really is.
How it holds no shape.
And of its endlessness.


Sunday, May 11, 2014

Now

This one time I called you when I was drunk and I barely knew you it was like we had just met. Like we hadn't slept next to one another for months. Because we had and we hadn't. This one time you called me and I had never known you and it was like we had known one another for lifetimes beforehand. We talked until the sun rose or until one or the other fell asleep on the line... I've always been vulnerable. I've always been right fucking here. As far away as I may seem. This is all I've got. Take it or turn away. Or hold me here forever. Cause that's what I'm asking from this frenzy life. Take me or turn away. Don't keep me for the sake of keeping. Take me or turn away...

Saturday, March 01, 2014

There are things I want dead in my life.

There are three candles; one of them has gone out. 

Ballerina

I had a dream that you loved me because I was a ballerina.
That there were glasses of wine on the floorboards and I took a glass on my way down.
There was a girl critiquing black irises and adding pearls for depth and layer.
There was a girl upset over a lost wedding ring she claimed was stolen.
I had a dream I took your hand and lead you down between the floorboards. 
I had a dream I was a ballerina. 
I was thin and wearing blue and you grabbed my waist. 
You wouldn't stop talking. 
The girl with the ring wouldn't stop talking, or the girls about the irises. 
No one could stop talking. 

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

People will talk to you if you are a pretty girl alone at a bar.

I became aware of the shape of my kneecap the third drink in. When I stand up I will be drunk. I will use my newly discovered joint to move the rest of my body out the door into the oddly frigid LA air. I will smoke the remainder of a cigarette I rolled earlier. 
I will meet someone I know I've met before who is drunk and kinda sad but still fun and aware of himself. We will know some of the same people if we talk long enough. 

for the sake of secrets

I want to give you all of this if you just take the time to give to it

I don't have things you want to see
I have secrets hidden under my skirt
I have broken bits left on the floor 
no one careful enough to sweep them up
they'll stick in your feet
Unmeasurable slivers 
that embed themselves into your flesh that the body then attempts to reject 
with a throbbing 
feeling like a bruise 
You leave me with an itch 
You bow and smile and only we know what the other prays for
your touch is so far away
we brush by one another
we catch each others eyes and I want to rip them from your head so you can't ever look at me like that again 
you would still with empty sockets 
because when some things are born they are given a life beyond their bearers that lives on so strongly without their presence 
for the sake of secrets

Ovals

I am leaving flakes of skin everywhere hoping that its enough.


things happen to people
and they go away
things happen 
old shapes die
circles are pressed into ovals and wobble instead of rolling sweetly along 

you can't live in the past 
although there is no denying what the past has made you- your past is something maybe you can't live in, 
but you live with forever

the past has left me crippled 

things happen to people

they go away


Sometimes I think we have forgotten what love is.

it's thought to be something you seek or obtain or yearn for or live without or are void of or overflow with or need or want or have or don't or feel or see... something that is lost or taken or given...

these are ways we complicate simple things like love

No, love is like silence.
Love is like breath.
Love is a bowl movement.
Love is a hiccup.
Love is like waking up.
Love is the grey hues of night 
Love is a blur
Love is the space between two objects

It is something that simply is and always will be.
It's just there.

Don't complicate it.


My hair, the flakes of skin
they are the same as love 
anywhere I have been they are left behind
everyone leaves skin and hair all over everything. 

Monday, February 03, 2014

Precious

Don't let anyone in
Don't let them touch you
Don't let them look at you
Don't expose any part of yourself

Be the lone tree on a hill
As the sun sets; a silhouette 
Be a mother bear defending your feelings as cubs 
To roll and tumble careless in the sun under the sky with leaves 
Be the baby cub who knows its protected dancing wildly
Be the silence, in its patience and wisdom
A mouse with quick tiny eyes that is hard to catch
Be the beauty in stone seen through water; the light that reflects when you move your eyes

These are things to remember 
Because these times are different 
Very few in fact deserve you
As always, give kindness freely
But do not give away your kind as freely 
You are precious