Sunday, May 13, 2001


here - don't you feel my thoughts pounding? they are running through my veins. not ice for blood, as some may believe, but words, tumbling around in the curved walls and waiting to spill out from the first rent or tear in my fragile skin. i thrive on these life-giving words - i depend upon the harsh irregular and sweet soft words, vying for attention. so don't tell me you can read my head like an open book, cracking my vessels open and tasting the sweet salty marrow of my bitter words and abashed feelings. you'd not want my forceful opinion spilling out like my life's blood - impossible to put back in. keep your own delusions - pounding through your temples and heating your body with the fury they provoke.

Saturday, May 12, 2001

as you pour your rainclouds onto my head

for once ( and i do think that i've been fair)
i want you down before me.
i'll use you as you would me -
if you were to get the chance.
i do shake violently at your memory -
i could not sleep and i just
want to know if i'm going to hurt forever -
a flaring pain - if you touch my wound
and i'm sure, being you
you'll bring salt.