All Tied

I forget sometimes
In times 
When I
Am all tied 
Up in my head
What they said
When they told me
That god is listening
To me, too.
And it doesn't hurt to ask.

Acting Out

Forgive me for the things I said
When I didn't want to be alive.
I promise both that they were not true
And that now I want to survive.

Pablo

Just as I left you
My occasional lover
Do not stir for me
From your sleep
Just as I left him 
My occasional lover
From when I got up
To get a drink
Only now he is not tangled in me
But his hair still falls
In mad fits of midnight
Long wisps grabbing onto the pillow 
Every scar
I occasionally kiss
Every burn mark
I run my fingers over
And that gentle golden cross
Still resting at your heart
While a blue morning light
Sneaks in through the window
And I break the rules
That require of me solitude
Occasionally 
So that I may open my heart
And marinate in your brown skin
Impossibly beautiful eyelashes
And inviting lips. 
You make a damned fool out of me
Occasionally.

Fellowship

Every fucking body has a moment
That turns into a phase
Gains momentum as a period
And eventually becomes a catalyst
For the rest of their lives
And it always fucking looks
Like a bad day
Rough week
Hard time
But when its over and you have your
New normal
Then you realize finally
It wasn't that bad
That you were just alive for the first time
And the few sad sacs that don't know
What I'm talking about
Have nothing to talk about
So fuck 'em

Water

I find that I spend a lot of time
Nowadays
Around cold moving water
And tangled dead trees
Limbs going every which way
Ducks shivering
A lot of brown and grey
Like a dream I had has a child
Like I'm going back there
To that big duck mural
Painted on the wall of Everett's
Barber shop
While I would sit in silence as a child and listen
To old redneck men explain the world
To each other
And I would pray they were wrong
Like somehow I am going back there now
And telling that kid
Just by sitting at looking at the water
That they were, in fact
Wrong
And that one day he is going to be okay
But I can't help but be depressed
That this is where I have to go
To meet him
These hibernating places
I wish I could meet him in a place
That doesn't look like it'd be perfect
For a mob murder body drop
I know, though
That crystal clear beaches on
Warm summer days
Isn't where my past lives
Thats the kinda place I'll go
To talk to my future

Mixing

What am I
But a poem?
Collecting constantly from
Buildings and broken
Pipes and broken
Dreams what
Am I if not
A poem
At night
After a day
Of observation
A collected weight of the day
Dumped by the bridge
Under the street lights
Mixing with the moonlight
I am a lengthy poem for sure
It has taken a long time to write me
It wont be easy to read through all of this
There is no instant
Anymore

Horror Film

I shake my foot in silent moments
Blame it on the coffee
But I know its because I'm trying to escape
Just being inside this body
When will I get out of this place
And into someone who gets out of bed?
It's too impossible at this point
To expect this body to change
I know nothing is hopeless
But I also know I won't ever leave this body by shaking my foot either
It doesn't mean I stop
Hopelessly fidgeting

Did you ever watch a movie
And see a character from the film
Hang out with you during the credits?
Popping up now and again
To entertain those in the theater who are still left
Too much of one thing or another
To leave
That's me
It's time to move on from this movie
There's a chance for the new to begin
But I roll down the screen in the darkness
Because I'm just too afraid to leave.

And I am also afraid, my dear, that my true blue root
Of addiction
Is a fancy I have for
Putting my hands around the soft and beautiful throat of my potential self
And hearing him gasp for air as he chokes to death
He's been holding on for so long-my potential self
He's been kicking and holding into my wrists since I was 16 years old.
He's a fighter alright
But I can hear his breaths getting softer
And his eyes are all red now.