Mar 06
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Story of the Lost

When all the lights went out,
she watched the world fade into the
dying sky, warmth left her limbs.
As she touched the ground
that cradled her from her womb to
her first kiss, her leaden eyes fell.

Fell and the trees are falling,
why does the snow fall so slowly.
Slower we all said as she drank her
cup until it seemed that her chin
couldn’t reach any higher.

There was a lost yellow duck
at the bottom of the bathtub, washed
away in a river of drunken memory.
I wished, that night, to hold the duck
closer. To ask it to sing me to sleep.

Mar 06
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She Slowly Follows

A brie cheese moon smiles down
at my footsteps as I meander away
from my car, too distracted by white
fish swimming in the sky winking
down at me mischievously.

I want them to come pick me up
on their softly scaled backs
and invite me to weave between
them. Cradled in their confidence,
their certainty that all it takes to be
loved is to glow brightly without regret.

Shadows cast by a half woken
moon undulate and squirm past
my heels. The crunch of snow
beneath me the rhythm they dance to.
If I could dance underneath that vast
ocean sky forever, even the fear
of what howls in the shadows
bends beneath the light. Take
me home to where darkness dances
a yin yang with the moon.
Mar 06
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I wrote you a eulogy
sitting there in the backseat
of my car as we sang
the songs everyone knows,
I wrote you the world.

I hoped the tears would stay
behind as I felt like you had
already blown through
the front windshield.
Glass painting the pavement
like a night sky and the
scream of sirens so unfamiliarly

I wrote about how
when the world was ending
you would be the first I knew
I needed to save. I wrote
that yours was the love that
taught me that sometimes
your favorite doll is the one
that you need to give away
the most, because love is funny
like that, if anyone deserved
treasure it was you.

No sirens ever came,
and the glass all held together,
an unshakable bond, and no
matter how strongly I felt as
if I had just watched your life
leave behind but a sweet memory
and it was my mission to tell the world,
Jan 22
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Hey y'all, Its me :) I just wanted to say hi and share some stuff I have learned going through my first real commited relationship as a 16 year old that maybe will help someone out there trying to figure it all out too cause its goddamn hard. I am in love, pretty hopelessly with this boy, but that doesn't mean that it isn't still hard, and that it is perfect.
Jan 21
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I am a monster, big green
and ugly, melted into the shape
of something pleasant.
I am one you want
to behold, with velvet petals
and sparkling green stems
in a springtime rain, all of these
serve to attract something wonderful.

But discover all I am.
I am the scent of burning plastic
in a car crash on the side of the road.
caution tape around the scene
saying don’t go here, here lies
a wreck. A giant Godzilla shadow
in the clouds.

I am bringer of monsoons
and volcanic eruptions
and silent plagues and feuding
families. I can bring on the funerals
and the run over dogs, the broken
brains and ocd obsessions
with the number of plates
on the goddamn table,

why aren’t
there 2 instead of the 1, where
is the 2 I need it to be 2 or more.
Maybe this obsession will make
me feel less like a buoy at night
Jan 10
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Those Deer That Looked at You When Your Foot Was on the Pedal and Their Life in Your Hands

Roaming eyes scan a darkened
lawn to find the out-of-placer’s, the lost
hobos stuck in a world not made
for them, might as well park a tent
in the middle of the frost heaved
road where you begin and end.
A smear on the yellow line is that
fence-hopper’s only grave marker.
I watch them try and check either
way but this pavement apocalypse,
this zombie ridden highway is hungry.
Haunt me with the ghosts of your glaring
saucers, Alien and trying
to abduct me. I look down and up
again at the moon, half expecting it
fell from the sky to make a home in your skull.

Jan 10
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Kicked Dog Cries "I Came Back"

When I say that I came back what I really mean is
you don't tell me sorry, I mean that fickle tilt
of your head means jack shit cause I came back for me,

what I mean is your teeth that glow, stained
in the dark don’t haunt me like your hands used
to, when they left a permanent burning sensation

where I felt you for days after like the whisper of shackles
and the click of our teeth together, when I say I came back
I expect you to recede into the horizon and cower

because it’s my turn now, my turn to toss and turn
you against the sand splattered ocean floor so you stay up
late licking your wounds feeling like a kicked dog

against the world, and when I say I came back I mean you woke
me up, I mean don’t worry I grew up, don’t worry I am happy,
I came back to the ground that holds me now.

Dec 17
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slip into the insanity

I thought I saw a two headed dog today
and it still feels like there is sun on my back
where its eyes stared right through me, and
yet even though i’m supposed to come back
down to earth each time I wake up
sometimes it feels like I never do,

so each bath I take I like to make waves
and sometimes it feels like I lose myself
in each wave I make, but the feeling of
watching those waves roll away, curiously
taking me to see where they disappear to
is serene,

same as the way watching the sunset
disappear after creating a brilliant show in
the sky where people have kissed and cried
and even died beneath it, is serene, except
someone always comes in to ask me
to remember things from a long time ago

like that will help the monotonous
splashes of color in my prefrontal cortex
that I never trust to make the right decisions
like, soup or sandwich, coffee or tea,
Dec 07
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Day 6: Feeling the wear and tear of having to surrender to the unknown

I am sleeping to ease
the pace of sand slipping
between the cracks in my brain,
cartoon pink and flamingo colored,
beating with each thought.
At this point I don’t think
the boa constrictor around
my chest will ever leave,
not until I do.

I know the crisp star spotted
nights and cold mornings frisking
me as I hurry to shovel off my car,
I know with simple certainty
I will come home after a long day
to the hectic array
of toys that always litter
our floor, a message
that reads: children live here.

Dec 05
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Day 5: Drinking in the haiku