From the moon

The moon loves watching you.
Without you, turns crushed blueberry blue.
Falls and crumbles like porcelain that flew
Across that room, coated with love dew.

Night falls quick
Gooey and thick.
With a sunray powered stick,
Poke holes that go "flick"

The sun shines through
The moon comes to you
I haven't got a clue,
but I grew
and I'm glued.

When Snowflake Met Earth.

Like zombie petals she falls.
The dirt opens up its arms
And swallows her into its pit.
Pink fleshy porcelain dolls
With cracked cheeks and sweaters un-knit.
Plummet the sky while he's knelt on his knees
She's in a disguise, delicate disease.
She wears frayed lace and burns his skin numb
When she lands on his tongue
Like carved droplets of cum.
He soaks in the nectar of a poisoned past
And her sharp edges melt alarmingly fast.
Sucking the ruby from his cheeks
The venom so bitter, begins to leak.
Swirls that curl like ringlets of hair
Like scarlet in dreams
Like ripped up seams
(from her lips).
Then from his pores the flowers did grow
Blushing peonies and lilies of snow
Candy syrup and honey dipped hearts
Done up in bows like twirling rainbows
Created a garden of destined fantasy.

Held together by intertwined fingers.
Held forever by a gaze which lingers.

two-oh-six, redredred

There are numbers I pick. I pick them out of the big angry morning sky, like ripe pink cherries on the horizon. They indicate. How many stairs will I fall down before I am paralyzed? How many books will I flip through until I reach enlightenment? How many. How many days? How much time do we have left until we have all our time left? I wait, you wait- stick me in a crate, use yourself as bait.

I was sitting in the kitchen and staring at the counter. Flick on, flick off. Light, dark. I thought to myself that if I were to rip this entire counter off the wall and take it outside beneath the stripping sun, I'd witness every imperfection dancing for me. I think I would applaud.

There was a knife. White handle, coconut innards- he hates those. It can cut well, can tongues be cut well? Raspberry jam, seedy and viscous sticks to the ridges of my mouth. I lift the sharp edge from the spongy muscle between my lips, I am careful as a child opening the forbidden cookie jar before dinnertime. I am nicked. It hurts and I wonder why I did that. Red is a delicious color. I taste of metallic red licorice.

There was a number. two-oh-six. 206. twohundredandsix.
This is the Daze Period. I drag my feet and gaze and the happy mistakes, they are such pesky show-offs. I trip and fall and bleed and crawl. Crawl towards that line, leaving a trail of fruit punch slurpie from my palms and knees. But I see it. I see you. I'm dripping, but I see you.

Your tongue will clean my wounds, your body will be my band aid, your lips- paradise salvation.

I'm moving quick. I'll be there soon. I know you can't always see me but if you squint real hard you'll see the slurpie trail, and a swarm of ants, and my bobbing head.

It's all on the horizon. I swear.

Cheatercheater, stop and beat her.

The finger you point is the finger I break.
The words you slather are flaking and fake.
I'm bitter, you're better.
Blown me off like I'm a feather.
I needn't choose,
Love comes in one's, not two's.

Hi, my name is _________

Hi,

I'm Sewagetrash. I'm sloshing around in the gutter beneath your shiny grippy shoes.
I'm Sewagetrash. I was dropped like a penny from a hole in your pocket.
I'm Sewagetrash. It's not worth the repetition because there are evident clues.
I'm Sewagetrash. A rocky concrete path, the bruised walls of a socket.

Petty Proof.

He's spinning tops and words that stop.
Sugar canes and jars of jelly.
I'm sitting pretty in a tank,
I'm sitting pretty in his belly.

Drying petals, won't you settle?
Soft like lips that stretch to the tips.
Bristling in the wind,
like hanging flesh I skinned.

Sweetness in the walls of your throat stays afloat.
Honey comb, I'll spread, you stroke.
Melody erratic,
Steady soothing static.

Remember the tracks that i left on your back? Let's play that track and smile and relax.

Counting down/Safe and sound.

Day 275.
I spent it immersed in complete bliss.

He held my head under-in all the beauty and splendor of love-and we swam towards the cotton candy clouds and The Dream.

The Dream..if only you knew. The most magnificent dream in the world. Where eyes meet on soft surfaces and tongues slide side by side and toes keep curled. Whenever, always, forever.

With 274 until The Dream becomes real. I am filled with him and the perfect comfort he pours into my heart.

We're almost there, my love.

A sirens death.

Glistening
In moonlight; in ocean's lips; in limbo.
Waiting.
Mistaken if you think she's been consumed.
Not yet.
Wait.
She's purple skin- drinking in velvet through her pores.
Burning with every breaking gulp.
Pebbles pin her pretty toes to the mud.
Pull you under maybe.
But she's waiting.
Rabies in her eyes (red sirens screeching silent)
She's a mouthful of waves.
Salt stealing saliva.
She's a mute calling.

Oh, I think I'm falling.
My palm to her frozen throat.
She's laying like an angel.
Wavering.
With green tits and feathered lips.
With only the nectar I pour into her.
Darting eyes.
Seashells breaking, turning red.
Under her back like a bloody bed.
Comely mermaid.
Gnawing sea creatures have left tears.

But she's fought.
She has poured concrete into many hearts.
Heaviness not yet set-
Prayed upon and captured.
Clipped and skinned and chained and drained.
Still too alive.
Still squirming in her bones.
Still sanding herself down.

Oh, my teeth..just to crack a rib.
Release the remains of a melty summer day.
All in her marrow-
Molten misery.
Her blue hairs curl around my finger.
One last burst of glitter was left within her.

Her- I lifted from the water.
Her- I held her and I caught her.
Her- I threw up to the moon.
Her- She's blooming in the gloom.

Excerpt

In my damp basement I would dance for boys. I would sit them down on my couch and start humming to my own music. My hips would sway for the boy whom I had chosen this time: captain of the football team, student body president, jazz band member. My humming would turn to panting as I twirled and made delicate leaps-my hot feet leaving marks on the cold floor. I would pick up the pieces of gauzy fabric I had scattered everywhere and cover my dirt brown eyes. Suddenly my world would have a green filter. Or purple. Or red. I kept myself small for my spectators; I needed to teach that they could be larger, stronger, and less helpless. I needed a role to play. My ribs protruded in such a way that it was safe to assume that I had consumed a xylophone. My cheeks had dissolved and my bones became so pronounced that I looked dangerously sharp at first, then ridiculously breakable at further inspection. So I’d undress and dance and sweat and pant, and when it was all over I’d cry. I would collapse onto the frostbitten floor, kneeling while the boy would scramble for his things then either stand by the door for a second hesitantly or give my head a quick kiss and drift out silently. They never said a word to anyone. I was their secret and they were all carrying mine.


One had stood in the doorway before leaving and whispered, "what a terrible angel you are. He was the only one who gave me his tears.

These Matters Matter.

There was once a plant in my room.
He looked like a Gerald, so that's the name I gave him.
Gerald was a naturally mopey little green guy and I really tried to help.
I tried to give him all he needed;
I played my music to him real soft, I gave him the right amount of water, and I'd move him into the sunlight every now and again.
Gerald's beautiful limbs fell limply to his sides though. Always.
I picked him up once, hugged his home and where his roots lay buried.
There were broken pieces of him scattered around me.
Brittle brittle.

Father would slip into my room in the midst of my absences
Feed and care for baby Gerald.
I wouldn't know this until much later, of course,
Because by then I had given up on Gerald thinking to myself:
"Why is there so much love inside me if I can't even give it away properly?".
I did not notice the new glow on his skin.
Nor did I notice that his posture had changed from melancholic to quenched.

Finally Gerald was taken from me.
I could not care for him right, I was told.
He was immune to the kind of love I was giving.
It was destroying him, and I wasn't human enough.
End the suffering and let him feel incredible..I wasn't human enough.

So still spilling tears, I allowed him the escape.
His radiance reaches me still.
It's the only thing which allows me to smile.

Crying and moaning again you stupid bitch.

BUT I MUST BE MOANING AGAIN.

SHUTUP ME.

NO ONE IS LISTENING. YOU SAY YOU WANT TO LISTEN. NO ONE. NOT A SINGLE PERSON IS LISTENING.

BECAUSE ALL I DO IS MOAN. AND CRY.

BYE.

I am not enough I am not enough I am not enough.

Not a single night goes by
That I don't feel the tugging of tears ripping through my eyes.
I feel, believe that you hold her so dear,
"But her's not me", I'd like to yell into your ear.
But the words they quiver at my lips
And fall over the edge and sink like storm-stuck ships.
I know you think it's me and so you aren't to blame,
You see that I am burning and assume that I'm your flame.
I am the drifter who floats through the fog
I still make-believe and I still dream of Prague.
If you aren't right then what's there left?
Of anything but your love, I can be bereft.
You were saying you could not give up on me..
But I'm rocking back and forth like a child with a scraped knee.
The winds are changing and I am breaking.
Aching, from the love that you aren't taking.
Forsaken I feel, no breath remains.
The yelling is ringing and clinging to my veins.

Where are the promises that we both made?
Wearing me out, gently I fade,
Back into the shadows and fields of sharpened blades.

Tearing.

Thrown into the gutter- squirming and numb- but you shined your darkness and scraped off the scum.
I tore through the tough and got through to rough but it's better than the soft because I'm stuck like I'm cuffed.
Leaving all the marks like our initials in the bark of the tree in the garden of our minds we will embark.

.

"Thursday, September 3, 2009

Time to send someone away.
Feel that summer rain, it's in your face again.."

This is why I worry.
Extinguished is what I feel.

Planet Health

iPhones, I learned today, are supposed to do two things:
be held right side up and be used to find out if your racing heart means you're anemic.

"Is our fellow blogger anemic, iPhone?", you may be wondering, well bloggee's, I have not a clue! But my heart is like bathumpbathumpathumpa in a second when yours is just a thump in a minute.

And I am cold when Sunshine isn't wrapped around me.

If I just ran on love, I'd be fit as a fiddle. I'm getting these really concentrated doses of love right now, and it's high grade stuff. Can't get it anywhere but from this perfect dealer of love I know.

Please someone lasso the sun for me.

Fuck tolerance.

There's bending backwards and then there's snapping right in half. There's a distinct line.

I can hardly handle my fits of tears over problems that are currently unraveling before me. Am I really expected to goose-step around and make sure I don't disturb anyone with my sadness? If I upset you, leave. Because I can't handle lamenting over lamenting right now.

What did I do? Does anybody ever wonder that?

What the fuck did I do?

I'm Taking Turns Talking To Us.

And while you're on the bumpy seatrain
Remember to let go of that clingy pain.
Remember to blame bullet tears on ocean's rain.
Remember like you remember your favorite songs refrain.

And while you're at the bakery.
Remember you are coming home to me.
Remember me like rings of topaz tea.
Spinning on tabletops eternally.

And while you dream with shaky eyes.
Remember it isn't me you despise.
Remember your hatred for the echos in lies.
Remember to forget our repeating goodbyes.

And while you're monitoring the slowing beats.
Remember he's out there on the shadow-buried streets.
Remember he's so close to admitting defeat.
Remember your place, to never retreat.

And while you tear my limbs apart
Remember to protect my quivering heart.

And when you're ready to depart
Remember that I'll stand still till you're ready to restart.

Tomorrow

Today was irrelevant. Tomorrow is relevant.
It all depends on the presence of a certain Love.
A certain Love who I miss.
And will continue to miss until the Sun plants a kiss on my cheek.

The moon will sparkle into your eyes; she's hoping to at least.

No More Holidays, Please

Today I thought of Halloween.
I remember how much I hate it.
Then I thought of all the others.
I hate them too.

What about the rest of the days?
The ones that lay on the calender, without any small words beneath them.
I like those days.
The simple ones that don't tell you what to do.

Let's just live on a cloud.
I won't have to worry anymore.

Yann

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kBHe-UxMkiY

Beautybeautybeautybeautybeautybeautybeautybeauty.

Nonsensical Behavior of the Erratic Heart.

You are slicing through my eyes.
Razors live under your murky fingernails.
I tear you up with each sentence like, "I surmise.."
I say it's up to you to worry about details.

You need me, you need me.
I burn in a prison painted pretty as a castle,
Surrounded by a pine tree and a red sea.
But do you see me and am i worth the hassle?

I know you recognize these cries.
In this pond which i wade in, you've been thrown into twice.
You've told me there can't be goodbye's
With Love as the item, can you afford Suffering as the price?

I need you, I need you.
You go up in smoke with a slow hazy toke,
So into the clouds I flew to bring myself to you.
Under the cinder and cinnamon cloak.

Dragging my toes across the sands of your skin.
Draining your mind with the words that I spin.
Dressing your heart with prickly pins.
Dreaming of the night when They end and We begins.

Torn all apart,
You hold the fragments of my heart.

Patterns In Absence & In Reunition

There was sun.
And there was a race being run in my lungs.
Particles were swallowed and stayed
tucked between our lips as we made
pretty designs with unraveled fists
on each others necks and kissed.

There was cold.
Nothing to be told you knew just where to hold.
The light leaking through my eyes
touched you on the shoulder and did you realize?
It was just another way to feel you.
Storms will come and turn our skin blue,
cured by the potion that our hearts did brew.

There's pebbles and yellow lines
Hidden under my curved and rotting spine,
my corps becomes bitter- lonely.
Rough, soft, pretty, you warm me only.
Smothered in remains of your buttery scent.
Awaiting the return to a graceful descent.

Burning, burning, brittle, bites into the heart.
The end written in charcoal but you brought the start.
Of knees buckling, eyes twinkling, stars falling, gentle drifting.
Of melodies sharpening, blood warming, hearts stung swollen, fire sifting.

Intertwine:
Turn you into mine.

Through the holes in my glove.

Let's move to Montreal tomorrow.
Forget about the hushed innuendos.
You can be my pimp and we'll make some quick money.
I can buy the heroin, you can buy the honey.

Dance to the fall of fantastical snowflakes.
Sing with the melody of our erratic mistakes.
We can scream at fancy fat cats,
Or trample the daisies and pretend we're aristocrats.

We'll rescue the dimes found under the mattress.
Fuck it, who needs a permanent address,
Or functioning lungs or lipstick or math?
Bright gray skies and bubble-less baths.

I'll tie your tie and you do up my shoes.
You'll always be late 'cause I like to press snooze.
Unemployed with so much to see.
Staring at the hopeless clouds and sitting 'neath the walnut tree.

These are my promises, to you and to me.
I'll collect baskets of stale potpourri
And you'll just sit there and deliver me love
and kiss my skin through the holes in my glove.

Leave if you're sick, but I'd prefer that you'd stay.
Always thought health was minor, but I'll brew you earl gray.
I'm not stupid, I just like excuses.
You left your mark; you live on through my bruises.