clawing
with
tiny
fingers
she
buried
words
in
the
dirt
of
the
hard
hard
ground
like
a
hidden
treasure
chest
except
the
map
has
been
lost
for
some
time
now
leaving
the
words

unspeakable.

nose dive.

the cliff's edge becomes more intoxicating each time you inch toward it.

the wind blows through your hair, the smell of the ocean envelops you, its salt licking at your lips as sun glints off the slick, black rocks enticing you from below. light gets in your eyes as the pale blueness of the sky caresses the ocean. it's no longer clear to you where one begins and the other ends. you squint, unable to see, but recognizing that at this moment there could not be anything more right than this.

you know, if you jump, at least there is the euphoria of the free fall.

remember:

you taught yourself to do this long ago.
you know how it works.

it has to work.

sometimes you just wait
for the snap of the rubberband.
it welts your wrist a deep red.
it radiates heat, as the blood pools
beneath this armor you call skin.

sometimes that is the only thing that exists.
the only thing that can exist.
the only thing that you can handle.

and so you wait.
snapping.

___ help me, if this all goes wrong.

every thing has a facade.
every person a dark side.
every mouth a lie.

there are people i know
i have slowly grown to hate.

the world spins on center.

sick of the center i wonder if
we could tweak it a little to the left

a slight nudge, a dainty hip-check
so that it might be
just different enough

maybe then it would work perfectly
like it used to all that time ago

but i have decided
i am tired of trying
to move this for anyone.

(under the same sky)

the stars you see are the stars i see.

metal tube makes
ears ring

rattling teeth in their sockets

while searching for
invisible

poison.

i am impatient with living.

exhausted
spent | sick of spinningturning
                                  revolutions
like

the rubbery blackness
of mytiredcar

clouded.

salt piles lick
our open wounds
as we slide down hills
of magnificent crystals
like diamonds without edges
you cry out
that it's burning you
somewhere deep inside
and white dust
pours from your mouth
your nose
your eyes
leaving ghost trails on your skin
so no longer can i tell
if you've been crying.

dream incubator.

sweet
like hard candy
from a crystal dish
an episodic dream
of you and i
promenading in circles
while a mocking birds sings
a song decipherable only to us
as hollyhocks bloom their luscious purple-red
in the kind of garden
we once got lost in
and outside crisscrossing clouds cough
the thunder of angels bowling
as we read from a yellowed copy
of Robert Frost poems
and me in my white dress
covered in seaweed up to the neck
and you
you in your suit with salt on the arms
from pulling me out of the deep end of the ocean
and i promise i will teach you
to excel brilliantly at sleepwalking
as we wait for constellations
to tell us why
the world spins so recklessly.