playd8

smile bright 

god is sunshine

melting laughter

out the gutter 

something right 

weak hands 

kisses, hugs

keeping straight faced

getting high 

rolling circles 

round my cuboid 

you’re not a big drinker 

and I get so serious 

don’t know what time it was 

lookin’ so perfect 

high hopes

though there’s fire 

burning in the distance 

forever after 

doesn’t exist 

groovy 

baby spin it 

forget 

like the first time 

like the last time 

right now 

right now we got sunshine 

god is light reflecting

off your eyes 

élan

thistles slip into thumps

forests covered in dust

words flowing, silence

each simple

ticking heart 

violent beginnings like

skipping a boulder 

on shallow water

panting, soft 

wave of emotion this slow

buildup, laughter 

to jump out 

of safety strings, knotted

illusion of home

it was never

freedom

shrouded in 

counterfeit cardboard hugs

going to pour all of it

into the hot pot of

self, loving sensual, open 

for my sanity 

to sleep on my own, touching 

knowing those hands 

we’ll come

I can breathe, twist 

wring the fog machine out

when you find me

I’ll be laughing 

creating coloured cobwebs

in hiking boots 

dresses and oysters

full throttle to the coast 

there’s freedom 

in love and

peace in cold palms 

pressed into a spirit 

I know what I want

Heartbeats

slippin’
I’ll just keep on
stay with this
ice snow drifts
wheels runnin’ in the dirt
want me to fix it
I’m tired, a kitten
alternating realities, this
psychosomatic whirlwind
it’s feeding
the lights could be dimmer
draining,
succulence
plant ginger, plant garlic
perhaps it could grow
in the frigid window
really
just focus, breathing
avocado stay moist
one day, just maybe
you’ll become a tree
our thoughts turn
to words
symbols, reality
sewing seeds
when we talk about
escapades, reveries
little curlicues of stories
open to windows
to worlds
thank you for sharing
music with me
your soul
your laughter
have a nip
a taste of that
sweet nectar
with me

Paper Doll

I’m looking for my paper doll. The one that I’d put super hero capes on. I’ve had it forever. Tucked away in a little box somewhere. Where the fuck is she? I used to draw these Wonder Woman outfits, sometimes she’d be an Amazonian goddess.

It really was the coolest thing.

I can’t find her anywhere. My little paper doll. The one that used to be so strong for me. These little outfits that I’ve drawn. They’re not big enough for me.

I drove this puttering, white convertible in my dream. She wasn’t a doll. But she was paper. Flip flapping when I looked into the mirror. I had this crinkly face, but not like wrinkles, I wasn’t old. I was her. I was paper.

I’d park the car and open the trunk. All the outfits that I’d dream up as a kid, they were real and I could put them on.

It was in the middle of the desert. There was this spinning contraption, this hobby-horse of sorts. It had these streamlining, spinning whirls of colour. It was this levitating sort of alive box. I was headed straight for it in the middle of nowhere. Like it contained all the answers.

But that image kept distracting me. My face as paper. I guess the more I focused on it, the more this world would shatter. The corners of reality coming undone. I stopped trying to get there. I couldn’t control it anymore.

I pulled over and starting tearing at this paper all around me. The skies, the distant contraption, whatever the hell that thing was. It all came undone. Then I started tearing at me. Pulling and ripping apart the very fabric of my being.

It was just this whiteness. This blank. Nothing.
The peace of it.

I found the doll. She always looks so different than how you remembered her.

I’ll rip her up into a million little pieces and let the quails eat me.
What happens when I don’t have the totem anymore.

When I am her?

Dubium Sunshine

I try to hide the things I don’t want to see.
And if my mind goes crazy I will follow your lead.

The doctor’s knife
is mighty sharp
dipping into parts
of me,
Don’t cry ’cause
if you do,
I will too,
and that’s not going to
do either of us any good
now will it, sweetie?

And it’s funny how,
it’s so much easier
behind a screen
to have these talks
the words,
they come out clean,
we have time to refine
our thoughts and feelings
and thank god
we don’t have to deal
with facial expressions
or an awkward silence
in between

So she emailed me,
the time and day
when I’d show up
forgetting slippers and strip
down to my underwear,
using that knitted sweater
I look pretty in
as a comfort blanket,
and it’s been a long time
since I’ve had an Ativan
so that’s really nice
and using the baby IV,
that’s really sweet

Let the medicine
trickle into me gently,
I’ve spent enough time
thinking anything less
could actually hurt me
I shudder at that
creeping feeling
of needing,
how it found its way out
like a worm

The desire
to be caressed or
kissed on the neck,
I’m kind of glad that
He never got to feel
me wrap my toes
around his Achilles’ heel
it would have hurt,
to feel someone hate that

So now I can focus,
on the matter at hand
this process must be
done in solitude these
altercations of the heart
the slicing of that
which doesn’t serve me
petty liaisons are
the least of my worries,
And I’m glad,
when they put on the gas mask
and I’m happy,
to cut out another piece
’cause who needed it anyway

It’s just blood tithings, babe.

So thanks for sending this over
let me just fax a response
after I’ve cleared my head
I’ll just email you my blood work
and my heart scans,
print out a prescription
for opiates and yes,
I’ll be careful with them,
they are damn nice for that pang
though I’ll have to admit

And I’ll try to
forgive myself for all the
“I should have knowns,”
while I’m lying in bed
replaying scenarios, like
cheeseburgers on Valentines
sure I’ll be okay, even though
I have this nasty tendency
to faint you know
but off I go with no breakfast,
stay in bed and sleep,
and I know I repeat myself
when I drink too much it’s
like an anxious tick

The impending doom
of a knife, reminds me
that these organs are not
to be toyed with,
real heartache is not
something I need to deal with,
outside of the contraption
that’s been sliding around
inside of me, trying to
gather information
about the algorithms
of my heart beat,
and I really don’t need to
distract myself with these
haphazard romantic antics,
these fake pirouettes
I’ve been trying to dance, just to
impress nobody

So for now, I’ll allow
the scars and mistakes
They’ve made me who I am
even now while I’m
drifting out of consciousness,
I know that all of this it
happens for a reason,
So thanks for holding my hand up
to the scary part and letting me
deal with this on my own

Crazy I will follow your lead.