Moths 

 
Guess I need to get a grip
Guess I need to be harder
Tough like a rock
No storm shall wither 
Straighten up and fly right
Little sister

…All these lies I told myself 
Under the wool of a petticoat
With lace up boots 
and a velvet bow
But the material scratched…
right into my sensitive soul
Revealing the innocence of a naked girl
…With no excuses left for truth
Smiles skip by, unhinged in twos
I don’t need a reminder of 
how deep I miss you…
I watch my feet move 
Attached to another body
I can not feel my heart 
It floats in a transparent jar         
Titled “random art”
The school year has started 
The children dissect it
Unable to revive her                         …they retire exhausted
Make me a project
Alone on a park bench
The coat has blown away 
All that is left
….just me…


  

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Sinking into night 

 

I carved out my soul

now i lay naked without my walls
I’ve no one to blame but myself
it is no one’s fault but mine
The ricochet of silly dreams
and backhand of belief
The fruitless hope forcing buds
like me
She’s a damn fighter

The Lord is all I have
I am clinging to Him with my whole being
in this blazing heat I am quivering
Lord I pray for life
that i may not shrink away
show me how you love your daughter
the metaphorical change to wine from water
Rain rubies and diamonds
glimpses into heaven
Misted in perfect falls of love

My eyes are black in this pulseless life
sparks extinguished
the loneliness of night
You did not search
You were already there
waiting with quiet arms
in my blue dreamers chair
I crawled upon your lap
A baby with no tears
unblock these caged emotions
unmute my screaming layers
frozen to cry
this hour I wail
rock me to sleep

Gently closing eyes…                            that weep

  

Ink it out! 

  

Art speaks in limitless ways 

The way dancers flock to an open space 
The way brushstrokes externalize a buried rage 
The way a chef sprinkles rosemary and sage 
The way a writer grips to the connection of a page 
Or a stick
Grounded dirt or sand
I once wrote with my fingernail on the shakiness of my panicked palm
Bathroom stalls and park benches 
Sometimes lipstick and a mirror appear heaven gifted 
When my daughter died I scribbled inside my head 
The litter of leftover thoughts
Still murmur like a distant rattling of mamas mixing pots 
Beyond a perfect line, circle or square 
Is my stream of penmanship 
Combating the woo of normalness
I do my best work under the duress of craziness
I wrote on a notepad in a bathtub in a hotel room
They said my brother was dying 
And I didn’t know what the fuck else to do
Punch a nurse or doctor?
The postman of premortem…
My tips ink it out harder 
Sometimes I dance and scream 
Shredding down the walls of my brain
Griefs found me like a ravaging bloodhound
Inside, all is not safe and sound 
But I smile and wave and nod
I am a mother and a lover 
I am a human spirit 
I share grief with the infinity of others
“Let’s talk and sit around in a circle”
but sometimes I spin out!
My Shape… is nameless
A pale face bound by a galaxy of freckles 
The overlapping and intersecting lines
The willpower of a lioness
There are no instructions for madness!
So I use the benefit of pen and paper
To be understood by myself 
and none other.



 

Absence 

I listen to the silence
Where laughter used to be
As the record spins
Absent bodies move further from me
Elation only ever comes in moments
Then it runs away 
I can hear the sobbing
Where the church bells use to sing
And I can hear the bullets rip out
As they hit me one by one 
Death trails joy 
No longer a fair trade 
A treasure worn
Then locked and submerged to her grave
My heart sags on a torn sleeve
The ripples so heavy on the surface
Camouflage the rocks sleeping underneath us 
If I could hop on the dragons back
I’d fly away
But the camels thirsting in the desert
And I think he’s lost his way 

Written: 5~23~2013

Still here 

  

I’m alone on all sides

The center of a dissenagrating point
The compass pointed home
So on shaky knees you rose 
I remain behind
Asking why
The question becomes a scream in no time 
I want your life
I want your life 
At the center of a dissenagrating point
I’ve already flatlined 
I have no life
I have no life 
A body without a fire
The world without a brother 
Alone on all sides
A child taken without her mother 
The compass points home 
An infected earth where the demons roam
You’re high above with the angels
While I’m still here, staring at the devil.  


Written: 8~11~14





The Miss



This week arrives 

Like heat on ice 
The impact of my heart disintegrating 
It weakens and remains solemn
I miss you sweetie
And the miss within is raging 
Its teeth are cutting 
Its fangs are slashing 
Its eyes are stinging 
Its throat is a compilation of rocks
Stuck on memories
To force a stop 
Don’t tell me to capture the moments 
The miss is still angry
Remembering craddling her lifeless daughter
Is that what you want me to see?
Years later 
The miss is sicker than ever 
Oh no!
The aftershock of disaster
Rolling through my busted structure 
Why why why…
It’s maddening, I’ll never know 
I just float in this miss
Covering and curling me in
Losing my daughter
Losing my skin 



Denial 



I really miss you today

Blue eyes 
Always converse
Always the jokester
The tragedy laced into my heart
As I stitch it tears apart
The pulse of where you are 
In the flesh that swims upstream
In the veins that give and take
The mothers milk 
Where I am permanently stayed 
My nails I bite 
Claw and fight me
Growing back at quicker speeds
A metaphor that is now my grief 
I cry and wail
Yet the missing only intensifies
I can’t stand to admit it!
Have you really died? 

To you, dear

DSCN1412 (3)

At the mouth of this cage

The liquid fire in my belly has consumed it all
From blistering tears
To sweating rage
These ceaseless loops
have me drained
I’m a canary
A blue bird
My song is expanding
Can you hear me
Vibrating through our air
Flying to you, dear
Break me down
Break me apart
Flush my desires
Unplug my pent up heart
I will land softy in your arms
Breaking safely down
I will sing for you
When day has fallen
And my cage has met your ground

Before my morning mug

Before my morning mug

The annoyance of irony 

The drag of being alive today
The uncomfortable heaviness all over me 
The only comfort is being with you
But then again eventually you will leave too
The constant pang of the bitter truth
The way we can’t change the history of our roots 
The way the pain clings like a million knives 
The way they back stab and don’t bother to lie 
Sometimes I wish they would 
Just tell me that life is going to be grand 
That I was worth the sacrifice 
That I was worth not the wait
But worth it today
And today would feel great
As you slide the knives further in 
Under the guise of promises and a tailor made grin.