Troubling dreams, but you are there
As some protection, or relief.
It was your nature to care,
When fallacy sprang from my grief.

But those lies and strivings ceased.
Motionlessness ever abides.
Your ruins, abandoned in peace,
Unearth round all sides.

A warm and familiar keep,
But always unspoken.
It’s here while I sleep
I see what you’ve woken.

You gave thread as a gift,
But I realized, bereaved,
Somewhere through the rift
I’d forgotten the weave.

I am diminished by and by,
Even as I advance.
The girl who never said goodbye
Never stood a chance.

Her old bones would dry and dust,
Chalk adrift in the wind,
But these waves refresh what’s lost
And threaten to emend.

The gypsy wasn’t in my blood,
But in my motivations.
After all these tiny floods
Crack weakened resignations.

I buried my head in your chest.
You wouldn’t have me cheek to cheek.
So much of me is laid to rest;
The ghostly tune rings bleak

An echo from dream to dream.

Fractured
I confused
The guilty, the accused, the
Forgotten

Aimless
I wander
Through poverty, and squander, and
Appetite

Desire
I implored
For less, or more, or
Different

Eager
I persevered
Becoming the mold, the feared, the
Elegy

I said forever was too long,
Too many variables to calculate.
I get my math all wrong.
I don’t believe in fate.
I said forever was too far to say,
But you can have today.

I said I don’t, I won’t, don’t ask.
I’m high-risk, low-return.
What hides beneath this mask,
Babe, you don’t want to learn.
My tomorrow is withering away,
But you can have today.

I said don’t fix it, just stop trying.
This record always skips.
I’ll drink until you’re dry and
I’ll pull until it rips.
I’ll burn it up, I’m burning anyway,
But you can stay today.

I was always skilled at treason.
I was always on the take.
I thought we could still break even
If we could still make a clean break.
I forced our futures on the scale to weigh,
But not today,
I kept today.

Who knew you could build a life
Somewhere inside each single day.
Now I’m a mother, and a wife.
You never listened, never strayed,
And in that gift you gave
Every day, another day,

Another everyday miracle.

Silence cease.
I wish for words
Like jackhammers
To force release,
To bleed the fever
That burns the brain
But I live constraint:
A true believer.

I cultivate silence
But when it settles,
Like cooling metals,
I threaten violence.
I stand on an island
In ebb and flow,
And only waters show
What I have penned.

Is this the end,
When will it begin again?

I’ve found the less I say,
The more I stay
Awake,
Afraid,
Or just away.

Some broken cog inside my head,
Scrawls each word left unsaid,
Heinously,
Haplessly,
And always too hastily.

I keep myself on alert these nights,
As though another hour just might
Release,
Ordain,
Explain.

Have I tried to ignore you?
Dry your well of words
So you won’t be heard,
And I’ve done it before too.

Any word is only as valid
As what it represents,
Regardless of climb or descent,
Requiem or ballad.

I sift through adjectives and nouns,
Always looking for the verb.
Still the subject stands absurd
And the silence falls profound.

So maybe I ignore you still,
While you burn like Vodka in my gut,
But you’ll not prance and dance and strut,
Until some common use distills.

Comfortable enough to forget my place,
I overstepped my station again.
Crawling under the cover of grace,
But never to stand amongst men.
I still thirst some things in vain.
Why do we even know Priscilla’s name?

The poisonous bloom of tragic youth
Yielded its toxicity and tapered,
As the stronger undergrowth of organic truth
Choked its vitality to passing vapor.
All the while I fumbled with resistance,
Until truth transformed my base existence.

Told to kneel, given a reason to stand,
I do both in tandem, never sure whether
I kick the goads, or fight reprimands;
Do I tear asunder or tether?
Will there be peace in silence tomorrow,
Or just a rich young ruler’s sorrow?

Many thoughts weigh the heart,
And this tongue is no good rudder.
The answers are strewn too far apart,
The questions, one after another.
I believe: a gift above critique.
I believe, but can I speak.

You again,

And a wave of sentiment

Crashes into conscience

Diminishing both.

You punish,

With your own contentment.

Viewing me through the lens

Of distance and affront.

I miss

Sandy walks in the silence

Of kindness and mutuality

Even if a lie.

Silent gray masses oppressively pass us,

Perpetually preceding the storming,

But never enveloped, so nothing develops

Beyond the bleakest warning.

Pallor cannot instigate. Neither heat, nor rain, penetrate

The muted, mobile display.

Nor can thunder threaten to sunder

We who follow gray.

Time advances, but stasis reigns with no joys or pains

To pierce the mist.

The blanket of numb will keep undone

The fetish and the fist.

Yet echoes from the divide rankle inside

Even under sleeping fog.

There’s an impulse to fly, to see a clear sky,

Above our smothering smog.