Monthly Archives: February 2016

photos are lonely, alright?

come on love. stop it. just stop.
let’s quit asking for jesus,
even he wouldn’t believe us.

how much have you suffered?
do you think he would bother?
if weighed against all of the awful you offered.
but let’s not pretend the fiction gives better,
I also enjoy all the maybe turned never,

The devil is laughing so soon in my ear.
Google the phrase if nothing is clear,
guess if you can, who you are now my dear,
very rarely,

worse yet.
a memory of something powerfully someone.
..or, someone.
powerfully something.

the you. you. try. to minimize,
shallow when you close your eyes,
the shadow left.

worse yet.

no innocence a fire met.
nothing, nothing, nothing yet.
no love that levels logic loudly,
no someone giving something soundly,

no hope.

for love called intuition.

no hope.

for someone something, listen.

no nature there,

I couldn’t hear it.

no aching you.

I couldn’t bear it.

something sade

It’s a common thing, those facebook posts.
I won’t capitalize.

You know the ones that I mean.
The pictures of generic things,
that tell the glowing world you’re crazy,
born of defect, but never lazy.

Share what’s shared and shared and shared,
you must see distinctive there.
you may have a different view.
of these things I’m telling you.

of bleeding.

not feeling. or needing.
just dreading the tearing and pain of awareness.

of knowing the awkward ignoring emotion,
I see you have loved ones, so how could you know this?
I’m screaming in letters to make myself clear.
how could you love like you do without fear?


You can fall in love with sounds.
A voice for instance.
A tone.
A certain pitch.
average comfort left unmeasured.

I can still hear yours.
Surprising bass from fragile beauty.
Laughter heard from anything.
A heavy rattle ringing softly.

Say it more to reassure me.
Look at me and say you love me.

Breathe me in from narrow folds,
feel the animal unfold.
realize everything was false.
..and perhaps she was just a poor substitute, for you.

The easiest hardest thing.

It is not better to know what could be,
versus the nothing that currently is.
Circle carved in the box before me,
Finding that all of the pieces fit.

Cleverly edit the sorrow from solace,
Edges of error soon sanded away.
Smoothing the other, the other that bruises,
Shoving the spherical soul in place.

Shoveling while shoving the dirt that accumulates,
Tossing and pushing the harder self heavyweight,
Hoping the better you pushes through anyway,
Pausing a minute…. to just take a break…

To catch a breath, that’s it.
that’s it.