a wave of stars

smashed up against your word

trash talk

dreams i can't remember anymore.

we were so long ago.

french kissing in the car

our eyes met on a thin line of lightning

our bodies jagged electricity

like how one travels down a mountain.

you are the son of your own destiny

and i am something else,

entirely.

Hurricane katrina

jesus loves whores

so you are forgiven by someone.

don't be flattered,

your sins are not original.

god did not put a third step between your two step

and my love. on blue and broken feet.

green fields you plowed through,

were picture windows blown out.

lives are so tender! i shout,

you broke the glass animal that was my heart.

smug bitch,

where are your words of wisdom now?

i divorce your quiet

with my own confessions

on this unsigned document

of the truth.

my superpower is love.

i have cramps
a couple of days ago the sky was a blue color i have never seen before.
it was an unrecognizable sky
i snapped a paranormal photograph with my eyes.
my heart is driving to the desert
i sigh
i curl into the italian
a short cry
and for dreams are his

i am not enough
he is not enough
there is never enough
enough is enough is enough is enough (song i danced to in the fifth grade in my bedroom covered in horse ribbons).
enough already
enough said

The problem with a heart
is that it doesn't have a brain.
I think a heart has limits.
i don't want it to..
 but i think it does.
when is enough enough?
when is it not enough?
when does love say no!
...stop and let go.
i don't fucking know!

dreamt my dad was off-roading in a cadillac, jumping it into an unswimmable river on the east side.  i had a horse in a hospital elevator.  the horse got nervous when i did.  he quivered and tensed..

i drove in circles.
narcotic romantic
circles.
my loves crashed
into me trying to swerve
away.

i don't learn
and neither do they.

how do you miss something you never became?

Afterlife

not often enough

are we speaking

in reference to afterlife

to the understanding

of our limits on legs

underfoot

the monster undertow

of tomorrow

is like a camouflaged submarine

barely crawling.

a magnet below us

pulling.

we laugh and scream

and finger cars

that cut us off

and slow our progress

to another meaningless

meeting of details,

sketches of something

we plan to goddamn make happen.

and every breath taken for granted

until this magic carpet is pulled out from under us

and we awake to the simple ending

ahead of all of us.

i want skinnier legs.

i am all human.

i am perfect.

i hate myself.

i thank God for what i have.

i am full of opposites.

i am in the trenches and high as a kite.

and low drowning in the river

and skating on fragile ice.

i am nothing

and if not everything

sigh. i want skinnier legs.

Clouds

we ran in tight circles

that stretched into serpentines,

ribbon candy and sparrows.

we parked behind the Toys R Us

in the air conditioned car.

we split a sandwich

and put our sunglasses on the dash.

we watched the greenbelt do the wave,

the clouds demonstrating their talent.

the trees like people in stadium seats

a sweep of shadow crossing the wooded valley

leaving behind a gulley

flush with light.

sometimes romance

is a surprise exhibition from clouds.

we are always who we were

go on.

with your bad self.

i haven't blogged in awhile. i'm busy. certainly not less to say.. but i've been putting it into songs rather than poetry. also i have no internet at my apartment right now. which is awesome! which sucks!

i'm working at the coffee shop again. i am a grateful barista. the money is good, the customers are beautiful and i drink coffee all day. it is a very good situation.

the band is playing lots of shows and we are getting better and better. i love those guys. they have given me my heart back. every show we do i feel happier and happier. it is like life has been breathed back in me.

i am waking up with songs in my mouth. there is a marching band on a loop through me.. making circles of my thoughts.. making stories of my circles.. making songs from scratch.

Dance hall

the stars were widespread

dappled dark horse

sky. texas night.

black heart

trucks parked

outside the dance hall

below the whore house.

no one died here though

i can feel it

the lack of ghosts.

something is missing.

it's saturday night

and the kids are all dancing

like ponies

in circles

around and around the ring.

and i stand

judge and observer

audience member

against a post

my failing back out.

smiling.

a slow and quiet grieving.

i grew a little this week.

i found some really scary weakness in myself and then i discovered the strength that has kept that weakness from destroying me all along.

i saw beautiful things like when the moon looked like a dirty smile and when i witnessed my dog seeing an old friend and expressing her content for that reunion. i saw myself begin to do the wrong thing and was able to stop myself before i did something stupid. and i also found myself taking care of myself at any cost.

i forgave some friends for being human and that gave me some forgiveness for myself. i sweat my ass off on stage. i felt pretty sometimes. i didn't care what people thought. i loved someone as hard as i could and he accepted my love. neat miracles happened! i cried over them. i shared myself with the possibility of rejection. i wasn't rejected.

i ate sour patch kids candies.

The authority of demons

i'm trying not to love him

but my scars are burning.

my heart so strong

is unhealing.

his demons are winning.

i begged him to fight for me

but his demons are winning.

mine are coming in a close second,

that which bears mentioning.

my scars are changing

my heart unbeating

i've gathered all the evidence

and his demons are winning.

this dark dance.

this hunter pace.

the sky blasts open

in a horse breaking race.

every house is leveled

we end at the beginning

again and again

his demons are winning.

my fingers ache with words i can't say.

the tremble is love

and deep loss

and you flying away.

you have seen me at my emptiest

now tuck me back into my blue jay nest.

the trees will grow up around me

ageless.

goodbye is for suckers

and i'm getting used to this.

earth silence..

the machines are making all the noise.

the mustard sky keeps changing it's mind .

for over and over it went,

it went into ragtime.

these tics are a dance-off on my cheekbones.

regret like a loosening jawline.

wake up senorita

you are hook line and mission impossible.

keep telling me things.

a need to know is burgeoning

when so recently i knew everything

and now such nothing.

-

-

-

-

-

i think about this for five clicks

from the kitchen. no more thinking.

let's know nothing.

The fall

my body remembers how to fall.

at first it is a confusion

i am upside down or not

i spit to see.

but then the knowing

that full moment when i accept

that i am in fact dropping.

that i don't control the speed

that i don't control the stars

there are no decisions in a falling

just spinning. and waiting.

for the violence of a landing.