Saturday, August 31, 2002

say what you mean

i've been putting up curtains today
they're rather sheer
and i've become tangled in their gossamer
the threads raveling and pulling at my ankles
whispering thoughts i never wanted
and words i can't explain.
i've drawn a thousand lines
and you've refused to cross them
scared of stepping in too deep
shallow water still holds that sting
the fear of drowning in emotions too strong to control.
you find irony in the strangest places.
if you happen to figure out, on the way
the meaning to life and why it is...
well, you know. i've said it a thousand times.
tried to fix the broken pieces...ruined...
well how could i have been so arrogant
to think it would actually work?

Tuesday, August 27, 2002

why?!?

i don't really know.
i did once...or i thought i did.
sitting there in the darkness,
alone, and in a delirious
state of numb.
watch carefully:
this is what sick people do.
sink the blade into your wrist
feel the red-hot pain
a little less each time - ah,
so i am still alive,
but feebly.
no one here to object,
do it again -
this time for the bloody show,
the evidence to paint on my page.
and when you come and ask...
what is that?
and if i tell you...
why?

Friday, August 23, 2002

abstract

a cloud-filled sky last night
obscuring the stars
and she crept over -
walked a mile in stilettos
shoes in hand, she climbed
into my yard and through
the window
bringing music, melancholy
a book of nothing[feelings]
it never meant anything
it never meant anything.
she steals my time, energy
running we down deserted streets
with solitary lampposts
clock ticking away
i should be sleeping
no worries no worries
beating along with the tock[tick]
she never listens! i screamed
get it all out, hold me
i need some contact
a small desperate caress
her footsteps fall
creeping out the window
flashing a peace sign against
the windowpane
tap tap... rain. abstract.

Sunday, August 11, 2002

cutting

S M
S I
self-mutilation,
self-injury.
call it
whatever you choose.
it's still blood,
razors,
and it means
you aren't any better
than the rest of us.

Thursday, August 8, 2002

i know you for moments

you sit there
peeking from under curtains
a small closet of a room,
mussed
you smile, beckon,
let me see you
unbroken, unchained,
uncovered
for the few seconds the drugs
can hold you untethered, flying high.
i only catch glimmers of you,
light behind your black curtains
as i drive by
on the county road.