i only visit to meet with death
to touch on sorrow and staleness
the halls of promise loom foreign over me
ravens wing shadows
drape across innocent faith
that baited me as a child
down safe and winding hallways.
i only visit to touch with death
to poke his translucent rubbery skin
and peer at my future
of arms crossed stiff on an empty chest
and cry tears with friends
and warm-smelling strangers.
i only visit at death's request
afraid to decline his solemn invitation
i find no comfort in wooden rafters
and walls of brick stronger than despair
the promise of resurrection and happy endings
have run away from this monument to fear
where death's tyrant hand cradles me
and his head wears a thorny crown.
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I have been holding myself still
with the hope that time
would suddenly stop
and turn back on itself.
November bit hard into pink flesh
December swallowed it. Santa
is sitting, glossy-eyed
in aisle seven
This year he cheerfully renews his offer
to sit in for baby Jesus.
Anything I buy you, you assure
will make you happy. The dead grass
and frail trees fail as inspiration. If this was a
perfect world I would buy you
a time machine
The color of Christmas trees
With the smell of big churches inside. Hymns
mysterious and familiar playing
on the radio.
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Long Distanced
You came tonight as an unexpected hassle
Threw down my books and the glass of water jiggled
Set down after my hushed sigh
Don’t bother me tonight
And I picked up the cold tool
like a heavy, disgusting thing
Expecting harsh responsibility to spit in my ear
But it was you, instead.
Far across black wires, under crow’s heavy clawed feet
Silky fingers of voice reached out to me
Through the cool fall air
And the kitten rolled her back against me.
I’m lonely here, drowning in the words written down
On starchy snow paper. In a crowd of dead black leaves
and faceless, funny people.
I miss you.
Sweat built up in the cracks on my palm
The bluegreen clock lying constantly. Problems, little things
flying by us like the minutes. I can only hear your voice
And we laugh.
So far away. Our voices, our bodies. The river
Grows wider as it flows along its way. I twirl the telephone cord
around my fingers. Lighter than air.
Come home this weekend.
I’ll be waiting. The phone rocks back in it’s bed. The pile of books,
money spent, and papers fluttering no longer make a mountain. All
night I will write tedious, learned words
But I’ll be thinking of you.
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you never never
asked me
if i was okay
never never
looked in my direction
always ignored my bitter face
never never
turned your gaze
away
from the television chatter
never
never asked me
what was wrong
never opened your mouth
never and so
i couldn't ever
never ever
forgive that
forgive your guise
of not caring
ever
about me-- never
about anything except the TV
never ever
you never let your guard down
not even for me
and i apologized
and i apologize but
i can't forgive
if you can't look past
my misguided fear
never ceasing,
never letting go
when i cried myself to sleep
when i wanted to explode
when i just wanted to turn off the TV
forever
you never showed
anything
never
not hurt
not annoyance
not anger
not sadness, never
never
you never let your guard down
never reached a hand out
never ever
not even to a friend
never
not even to me
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you don’t exist
For three days
and I find a blade
against my wrist
against my skin
I can not summon the weakness
To push it farther in
I crumble
down
to the floor and writhing inside
like worms in an apple
grinding my thoughts
and biting and biting and biting and biting
I hate you
but the tears in my eyes tell you otherwise
I’m pathetically lost in you
lost in the hours spent waiting to hear
some semblance of a sentiment
that you might
want me there
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note: please keep in mind a lot of these poems are older and none are about specific people, except "never never."