my old friend Peace came to visit me the other day

i had not seen her in a while

she came up suddenly without warning

on a schoolbus riding on the highway,

the sunset striping the thin clouds pink

i had expected to see other acquaintances rape me with their power amidst the rumbling engines

but Peace pushed past themĀ 

and bloomed in my chest,

like a drop of food coloring in water,

and i welcomed her

even for just a moment.



i drowned in your sunshine

until i realized

it was burning me

stinging rays piercing my unprepped skin

i thought i had put sunscreen on

i thought you would be kind

but now to me you are

a slow fiery cancer

that i want to get rid of

you expect me to give and give

there is only so much i can take

i am tired

only the old man in the moon can save me

i have been cursed

with my thin skin

its delicacy making

the weight of guilt

seem impossible to bear

look to your own kin

you will see those

who can grow in your light

you can’t look to me anymore

i have been stomped down

to ashes once again

it would take God

to reshape the dust

sifting on this hallowed ground


i am spent

only the light filtering from the window

can touch my face anymore

i wish it had not

turned out this way

i see you anew.

i take my heart home with me tonight

but it is also still tucked away in the back corner of a bookstore

tripping in the back staircase of a museum

my heart is feeling all kinds of new

love, unfurl yourself from your leather binds!

charge forth with a force of a thousand raging bulls

but with a tenderness of a lamb!

scream his name

with a whisper

keep the skin of his hands

buzzing in your fingertips

and the shelter of his cheek

frozen on your lips

my heart is full

of nourishment

no earthly food could imitate

or replace

my piece of peace came to me today

opening and closing with the rising

and the falling of the wind

breathless from laughing

and from kissing the pain out of me

our past may be broken

but here we are anew

smiling and loving with round young eyes

rising together as the phoenix

from the ashes does

oh, love

if only you knew him like this every day!


i walked up to you in your cradle so small

pictures of princesses hung up on the wall

you gave out a wail, so defiant, so strong

i opened my mouth and sung your last song


lullaby, my love, hear the great sigh

of whistling winds that bid you goodbye

who asks when you left, and where, and why

they mean all the best, love, so please don’t cry

lay your head on my chest, and take heed to my


perhaps you were created out of love or hate

but the chance to know came far far too late

for i had not known you had died in your sleep

so hush now, my child, while i gently do weep,

of your lullaby,

lullaby, my love, hear the great sigh

of whistling winds that bid you goodbye

they ask when you left, and where, and why

and in my great haste, i simply reply,

you meant all the best, love, so please don’t cry

lay your head on my chest, and take heed to my



hands are an extraordinary thing

mounted with perky blue veins

pale and almost translucent under the white light

crusted over with tan brown skin

and small stubby fingers

that makes the world go round

fingers stretching and tensing

enclosing on other hands

playing music

scratching the stickers off of a brand new pack of cookies

why do we use hands for evil?

pulling the trigger

gripping the blade handle

cinching the throat

hands should nurse the newborn

not a wound

we clench onto the hand

when we are first born

we show love through our hands

the closest form of

physical connection

interlinked, our hands are inked

with deep stories in its crevices

they tell of civilizations almost a million years ago

and of today

they take

and they give

and so when we

shrivel the world up to ash

they tell of a world

that cannot help

but burst into flames

by its own hands

used and destroyed

you shouldn’t have come so close

i fear there’s something dark in me

not even the brightest lightbulb can awaken

this breathless place

arid and drafty

the attic unopened

and unexplored

yet the doors fly open

at the most unexpected times

last year’s dust and bugs with sharp teeth

cough out of the room

making my eyes sting

with an anger

i can never recognize

my innards pulsing out and coming undone

out of their tightly packed constrains

popping out from the strained skin

and making me choke

on stained water

i am in my prison here

with myself as both the prison guard

and the felon

convicted of a crime

i never did

i know you don’t really miss me

you miss my body against yours

sliding my hair tie out of my curls

you miss my heart beat on the cold stone floor

you miss my warmth you miss the blank expanse of my stomach

that you liked to thread your fingers through

you miss my chicken scratch on a cold metal bench

you don’t miss me

you miss my convenience

you miss my awe of you

you pass your finger through the flame now, my friend

my candle will only get hotter

with each passing hour.

burning bridges

look at me

from across the bank

see the blaze reflected in my eyes

as i hold my torch to the bridge’s wood

connecting the two sides of the river

watch it curl up and shrivel with a hiss

into the ice cold waters

let your gaze slide over to my pulsing jaw

laced with the venom of a thousand years

and the lust of a revolutionary

don’t you dare look away

i’ve seen you enough to know

that’s all you’ve ever done

in a sorry attempt to preserve your

deliberate ignorance

don’t call to me

for redemption

remember this day

let it be branded into your mind

with the hot iron of my

infuriated black eyes

don’t ask yourself what you could have done

but remember what you did

i burned this bridge

before you got to it

because how can you be allowed

to cross my bridge

when i never even crossed your mind?

my god

what a waste of lumber

for a jackass like you.

the dark deep

sticks and stones

could break my bones

but words will always desert me

in the places i need them the most

i’m at a loss with you

but thank god for the pain

otherwise i would not have been able

to reach

into the depths of my soul like this

thank god for the letters that mold themselves onto my hands

and snake under my skin

without them

what else would i be made of?

broken promises and shattered expectations

made by other people

lay heaped just on the bottom of my stomach

thank god for those crushing cries

that dig into my brain and wrack my spirit

thank god for those hours in the bathroom stall

a fist clenched over the sharp pain in my chest

in a desperate attempt to find my heart

from the outside

thank god for the silence that drenches my ears

as i walk along the deep corners of empty school classrooms

thank god for others that have gone through this or worse

if these are the only feelings i can have

to survive in this world as a human

so be it

because beggars can’t be choosers.

why i write

today i looked outside of my breakfast room window

and to my surprise, i saw three long, thin vines crawling up the glass

that i had never noticed before

i write to recognize these vines

to recognize the nature

that i do not see in my rush to finish my day to day activities

i write to cry, i write to breathe

to inhale the words within me

and to exhale them into others

the kiss of life

an oxygen tank

for those who feel dead

i write to wake up

every day, to accept life’s challenge

i write to shield myself from anger and hate

i write to leave and to enter

to love, and to learn

i write

to erase

my mistakes

i write

so that others may speak

or be spoken of

to make strangers into friends

and friends into strangers once again

because we are members of the human race

laden with stories i cannot truly know without writing

they are intertwined and snake up around me

slithering into my brain, into my veins

connected together, like those vines i see

outside of my breakfast room window.

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