Tuesday, May 26, 2015


This world is not Concluding--
Though I thought it was today.
This world is not Concluding--
'Cause I finally found my Laugh.
Perhaps it was my mother--
Perhaps it was the priest--
Perhaps it was the friend I'd lost--
Perhaps it was the Sun--
Or maybe just the random homme
Who understood my Name--
But your reply brought confirmation:
Instead of crying--I Laughed.

Your Forgiveness

This game we play:
Who is Justified and who’s Condemned?
I give up; I let you win—
Now let your Burdens go.

Each one the shape of a small, sharp Stone.
Not laying them down, you let them fly.
As each one hits, I remember—I think:
I give up; I let you win.

Each one draws Blood, these Stones you throw.
I sink much deeper—deeper—into the Mud.
The Dirtier I become, I remember—I think:
I give up; I let you win.

I remember—I think:
Perhaps Mud mixed with Blood
will convince—
You have been Justified.


“God is in Control.” Obdurate
hands push me to my knees.
“Just Trust and ask Him.”
I raise pleading eyes—to

The Gift

If you don’t want it
—give it back.
Leave it on my doorstep
with your memories of us.

Sinful Boundaries

Haunting whisper in my ear:
"Every 'no' is selfish."
I roll up my sleeve.
I stick out my arm.
"Here—Bleed me dry."

Saturday, May 23, 2015

Born of the Island, Assateague

I am not naïve—
I’ve been reined in artistic perspectives
and Einsteinian relativities.

I know you loved me—
tried to help me—
became the person you thought I would need.

I am not blinded—
I saw it all—
your acts were far from in vain.

But I wish you had paused
and simply watched—
to see me wild and free.

I didn’t want to be helped.
I didn’t want you to change.
I wanted you to love me—

wild and free—
unbroken, prismatic-sheened—
living—just as I saw you—

I wanted you to see me.
Instead—our solipsistic,
domestic soliloquies.

I wonder—
is there any going back
to the Island of Assateague?

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

All Other Ground is Sinking Sand

What is this accusation—
I’m pulling you down with me?
When you’re holding fast
And—I’m not sinking.
You say I’m living
A sad fantasy of mind,
But tell me—Whence comes
Your delusion of my drowning?

Why Should It Bother You?

“It’s not always rainbows and butterflies; it’s compromise that moves us along.” How much will I give up? Arranged marriages often lead to mutual love. I care. It’s impossible to live without hope. Your head is filled with phantoms and fantasies. Do you ever wonder what I hope for? I used to think you were a phantom keeping me alone, but now I see you are a wisp keeping me in hope. I feel my heart die a little every day. What is the difference between suicide and self-sacrifice? My Christian love duty. You are anti-Christian. I love you. I thought we agreed not to use that word. You both have an anointing on your lives. He will go insane if you cut him off. You need help. God loves you so much. We can be in the insane asylum together. I’ve already been there; I’ll reserve a room for you. That’s not something you should tell people. You will never love. You do not need to help—Jesus does. It’s him versus me—and you want me to trust? I’ll be here with you in spirit. A trail of destruction. Why did you come back? My hope is crumbling. You’re bringing me down with you. Hope floats—just beyond my reach. A man threatened to jump off North Bridge a few days ago. Every time I cross it I remind myself: “No, I can’t guarantee I’d die; the fall isn’t far enough.” I wrote a paper on a UFO suicide cult. You are unnatural. I suppose it’s my fault for being me. If you could be anyone, would you choose to be you? I’m stuck in a box of six “why”s. This too shall pass. Maybe I’ll feel better in the morning. Your message woke me up. I’m sure my phone won’t survive flying from North Bridge. 

Monday, May 11, 2015

How Long?

How long
will I keep telling myself,
"This too shall pass"?
How long
will I continue seeking
distractions from my mind?
How long
will I keep silent
in order to stifle screams?
How long
will I pace the bedroom,
exhausting my way to sleep?
How long
until I decide to stop
fighting this unending battle?
How long
until I take control
of this life that is my own?