I see you drinking at a fountain with tiny
blue hands, no, your hands are not tiny
they are small, and the fountain is in France
where you wrote me that last letter and
I answered and never heard from you again.
you used to write insane poems about
ANGELS AND GOD, all in upper case, and you
knew famous artists and most of them
were your lovers, and I wrote back, it' all right,
go ahead, enter their lives, I' not jealous
......
What would thou think of me tying rope to the tree?
With every strike mine own sword stabs back at me.
Perhaps I will let mine enemy pierce me,
For I can go on no longer.
Each day I sharpen and shine my blade.
And each day in its reflection I see myself fade.
If only the Fades could snip mine tarnished thread
And leave me strewn among the field with the other soldiers lying dead.
I look to the heavens; may He guide me.
......
As I stand before the gates of death,
And take my final, trembling breath
I'm filled with fear and deep regret
For all the things I left unsaid
I try to find my way to faith,
But no matter how I pray,
I remain an atheist at heart
A heathen creature with no god,
And now, as death draws near,
I am afraid.
......
Instant thoughts of regret
Conquer the maze of deceitful pride
Loss and gain, things I repent
A lonely soul left aside
A bottle of hot water to keep me warm-
In the cold of lonely nights
Songs of melancholy in the background
Reminiscing from freaky heights
......
Poets, come out of your closets,
Open your windows, open your doors,
You have been holed-up too long
in your closed worlds.
Come down, come down
from your Russian Hills and Telegraph Hills,
your Beacon Hills and your Chapel Hills,
your Mount Analogues and Montparnasses,
down from your foothills and mountains,
out of your teepees and domes.
......
i never received flowers
there was none
, not even the color i like
no yellow , no pink , no purple
i never received flowers
only when i was buried
mind buried alive
body deep down at sea
......
Every morning, I leave no trace,
And you'd never see past the smile on my face.
You might have asked, and I might have lied,
Truthfully, these are the marks of an angel longing her return to the sky.
Every evening, I argue with the mirror,
Wondering if I should shower right after dinner.
The glass of water in my room becomes all too tempting,
And now I'm caught in a vicious cycle, addicted to feeling empty.
......
I'm proud of you for winning your silent battles,
The toughest decisions that you keep from prattle.
Clap for every single day you refrain from incisions,
Clap for every single time you say 'no' to addictions.
Whatever it is, you deserve the recognition,
The choice to get up, keep going, fulfilling envisions.
I'm proud of me for still holding the towel,
I never threw it in, instead, in I put dowels.
I wouldn't've made it to today if it weren't for my friends,
......
It comes in waves, yet all waves stay.
No currents in this tub, her worries astray.
Swimming in thoughts and welcoming prayers.
Sitting chest-high, surrounded by raisers.
Eternality fine-printed, and she signed His waiver.
She grants her last breath, and submits to her Savior.
Plunged for five seconds, but too short and partitioned.
Immersed a bit longer, ‘cause six’s too wicked.
Seven is His, and now she’s forgiven.
......
Did I really deserve this?
You said that I was worth it.
You’re calling begging three steps from the ledge.
Reached out and tried to talk to me,
But I said, “I know that I’m not perfect. I know we don’t deserve this.”
I thought we agreed we’re unfit; fit to be ‘not meant to be’.
You took one step.
I know that you’re not perfect,
But this just isn’t working out to be what we thought could’ve been.
I cut you off and you took two more steps.
......