worst way

Distraction
heavy coat of senses deaden

escape from/escape to
neurons are Saturn’s rings or
the 24 hour bus route

airport to the church to
the airport to the
church.

you never had a flight to catch.
or funeral

or wedding.

waiting disguised as movement,
step off.

breathe.

the sky is
here.

The ground holds you like a mother.

I’ll tell you what this is about.  The way my rabbit brain cycles and never lets my thoughts step off the bus.  Except last night I felt the spaces in between thoughts (I guess I was trying to meditate or something).  Should probably do that regularly, the sky is really nice.

Oh. So they removed the 10 year bar on my fiancé… We (or, he) have the interview on Friday.  If this doesn’t go through… eff it I’ll just move to India.

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spirit bird

 

the gravity of you is a relief, step into your orbit
familiar like wax of an almost-dead candle. Wanna

recognize the flame. It’s
so warm here.

Slowdive from comfortable heights, what is fear?

A trick.

What is your heart?
Better than 20/20 vision.  water in a

thousand mile desert.

 

I know what I want.  Unsure of how to get there.

 

It is very easy to teach the box.  Dimensions of the one you’re already in or a new one to step into.  Agoraphobia is love of the cage, or rather, fear of the not-cage.  Unsure how to turn a wall into a ladder but probably yelling/chucking rocks over the top is unhelpful.

 

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j

I got instincts like you would not believe, my flight or fight response could burn bridges on the moon-

thick vacuum spacesoup, no match for this fear

 

nah I’m fucking with you, have a low threshold for trust

I believe in you even if your divinity is serpentine, bed with teeth, caged horizons like you wanna keep me here

 

don’t do bars though

that song is too difficult to articulate.

vts

rabbit brain
racetrack neurons distractions the
cardboard shield against

darkblank

emptiness

canvas, the void
peeled back and
wordlesss

sobriety the loudest silence.
gutless, endless

no cliff, no sky.

 

Ida

Quiet love,
waiting and bright

I would sing you to sleep through
centuries of dusks

easy happy, soft heart of
the infinite now

I see you, I see you, I see you
stages of the moon, familiar

comfort, slowshine

here.

 

 

I yanked this poem out by the roots for you

harvested that garden of cranial
spaghetti sauce, crusted
over/
fossilized reluctant

wrenched visibility from mudstains

I stole from the storm to give to the eye,
wanted to paint your chaos unimaginably long-skinned and
many feathered

violently dormant

the risk is proportionate to the view, always
this altitude a glory and a danger

I should be thanking you for.

Make a new friend.  Only friend in my neighborhood, essentially.  Now he’s telling me we can’t hang out because he’s in love with me. Ugh.  Not even flattering I’m just so so so sad because I thought it was the real thing.

Also.

You SHOULD love your friends.

He said he always looks for love in the wrong places.  I told him “you weren’t looking for love in the wrong place. Sex isn’t that.”

 

cavernously lonely, universe upon universe of
empty.  How terrifying it must have been when I found you.

Tell me to go away and I will I will I will>> you have my
address

you have my phone number.  I’m a quarter turn of an atom away
close as the breath

on your tongue.

 

star/blackhole

8 years of working in nursing homes.

I know what the human wants. To be
seen.

behind the shell of bodies
gardens within gardens

I would walk that maze with
you

make friends with all your dark
afternoon tea with your demons

I would stare your past right in the face.

I wouldn’t
even

flinch.

 

I was sitting in the ruins thinking how the fuck could i have let this happen again

But I couldn’t live in that house anymore. The staircases and the food in the fridge, both rotting.

4/9

I kept putting it off. Didn’t want to dismantle. Didn’t want a fire. Didn’t want to clean out the basement or walk in the attic.

But. All that rotting wood. The core was bad the foundation built out of inferior materials.

I still tried to live there. Decorated the walls all nice and ignored the flaws (that BASEMENT I swur.)

Rotting wood does catch fire. Despite everything. I want to get to the point where I’m not ashamed of that, but grateful.