In bed

The sheets have a weird
Burnt smell
I washed them
Yesterday
And they smell
Burnt

I'm still lying
In them
Willing my hands
Away from my phone
It's 2:14 in the afternoon
I haven't showered
Am still in
Pajama
Pants

I'm making
Mental lists
Of how to be
Healthy
How to feel
Normal
Imagine myself
Outside
I feel healthier
Already

I'm still lying
On the burnt smelling sheets
Hand still on phone
Waiting for me
To do something
Like it's up to
Some other power
To puppet me around

I can hear the
JG Wentworth commercial
From down the hall
I'm irritated that
I'm singing the phone number
After it's over.

My fingernails
Are
Dirty.

My hair even
Feels gray.

It's easy
Focusing on
Small things

Tiny
Imperfections

Ignoring the obvious
Weight of life
Keeping me
In Bed.

The Monster

It's a dark and windowless room
With a monster that you can
Hardly see
Though you can feel it
Salivating, 

Leering,

Planning to devour you whole.
You don't want to be
Alone with it.
The only door
Won't let you out
And only allows
The vampires in
If you invite them.

Some of the people
At the door
Asking to be let in,
They can't see the monster,
Don't believe in the monster,
Try to convince you that
The monster
Is not really there.
No.
I'm sorry,
Leave, please.

There are the people
That humor you
Ask to be let in
And comfort you like a child
Afraid of the Boogeyman,
Make up ways to
Un-see the monster
That is still seething in the corner.
Thank you,
But,
You don't understand.

Then there are those who,
Inexplicably,
Have been residing in this room all along
Sitting quietly in another corner, unnoticed.
They can see the monster.
They're terrified, too.
You know the monster is stronger than
All of you combined,
But maybe
Maybe
Together
You can start to search for
A way out.

Fighting the urge to end this a la Monster at the End of This Book. "I, lovable, furry old GROVER, am the Monster at the end of this book. And you were so SCARED!"

Lazy pretender

I woke up late this morning
Because it's a Sunday
And no work
But then
I just laid there
Eyes shut
Pretending
For hours
While the room
Grew warmer
And my daughter complained
And my boyfriend
Tried to snuggle
My unresponsive side.
The longer my eyes
Stayed closed
I could still see my dream
And the dusty colors of the world
Remained out.

Last night's dream was SHIT, I tell you.

I stood quietly
tears hidden
watching them laugh
to themselves.

Such a miserable display,
I could no longer speak
no longer bring my eyes
from the floor.

I was mistaken.
Horribly.
Miserably.

My half-soul
lay gasping for air
breathing it's last.
Finally destroyed.

I was empty.
So bare.
So ugly.

Powerless
cut down
completely
insignificant.

Just keep swimming

I'm swimming in the middle of the ocean
Getting tired
Waiting for a boat or a plane to see me
Waiting for my rescue

Occasionally
I find something to float on
And look at the clouds, thinking
Okay, maybe this is not so bad

I let myself relax
Relieved, sleep
And wake to find
I have rolled back into the water
And there is nothing now
Nothing
To keep me afloat.

I think to myself
It might be easier
To let myself sink
I'm so tired
And no one is looking for me.

I tread water and scream
Wait for the arrival
Of a boat, a plane
Or even
Just another soul
Lost at sea.

lurking in my lerkim, frustrated

i want to say something
say i'm lonely, i'm bored
without seeming weak
or silly
or attention seeking.
i want to be a part of it
a part of anything tonight.
a discussion
inside joke
an argument, even.
just something.
instead i quietly read
other conversations
too afraid of joining
where i'm not wanted
because, face it
(i tell myself)
i'm never really wanted.
i'm terrified that i have
nothing to say
nothing that anyone wants to hear.
i will always always be
lurking around the outside
with no way in.

Flip Flop

One moment
I am the bright and shiny
center of the fucking universe
radiating pure badassery
from my very soul.

The next
I am a whimpering nothing
a drag on everyone around me
a pathetic and stupid creature
wondering how anyone could stand
to speak to me, to look at me.
convinced they all take pity
on an obviously lesser human being.

At times I believe
that I am close to others.
friends, family
I am loved and understood,
feel that everyone is somehow
connected to one another
and that I am one
with them all.

At times I am the only human alive
watching puppets around me go through motions
it's all so alien
I don't know if anyone is really having thoughts
or if that's only me, projecting
like a child playing pretend with her dolls.

Home

It's there
Whether or not I speak
Or look up and acknowledge.
But when I do
I get caught
Paralyzed
Unraveled
It's not quite safe
No
But it's quiet.
Beautiful.
Fills my soul.
A place I will visit
When my mind
wanders.
Home.

The land between Down and Bliss

There's a light on in the next yard over
Where there's murmur and shadows moving, life and laughter.
Here is me, listening to sad songs
Drinking my rum
Still and reverent
Being wishful
But glad for the peace.

Only natural

A night of rum and nature documentaries
Of pregnant pauses to reflect
On past lives
People and places that still exist
Growing and moving on
Evolving beyond me
Continuing without me.
I'm digesting this as I watch a
honey badger
eat a cobra.

3am snapshot

This room is all there is.
The humid buggy stillness.
House fan rattling, sucking in the
sticky summer night.
Bare legs bonding
with the brown leather sofa.
Sweet Kahlua lingering
on my lower lip.

Detached

I've lost my Self again.
Everyone else is more real,
More actual
And I can't picture myself
At all.
I have to invent a me,
A new one
That's ill fitting.
This world that felt so full,
It's only full of Things.
And I'm one of them.
A Thing that moves amongst the herd.
Neurons randomly firing
Just trying to make sense of it
This stupid chaos.
Soul is an illusion
And these are only words.

Vigil

As the world sleeps
holds its breath
on pause, until who knows,
forever,
I will tap into
the heads of the sleeping
the minds of the dreaming
the heart of the oblivious
unlock memories from before birth
lying body-less under the stars
knowing. connected, still.
I return every night
keep my lantern lit
and wait.

Black/White

I'm all in
uncomfortably
exposed
longing for eyes
waiting for confirmation
convinced I'm not here
until accepted.

I'm closed
indifferent
unconvinced
willing to
leave the party
alone
because none of this
is real.

I'm all black or white
on or off
yes please
or
no thanks.

Inexpressable

Nothing neatly describes this
but maybe, nearly
the minor melancholy key
a quiet scene on film
lines from a lyric
a scent
a memory.
I save these clippings,
show them around,
even if they go unnoticed.
Somewhere
sometime
another human kept this
and found a way to express it.
I steal from those that have
felt the tragedy of a dream
with no ground in reality.
Nothing need come of it
but the feeling is shown
and digested, and
hopefully
shared.
I've transmitted in the bath
still, concentrating,
sent it with tears
through sleep
through breath
in untranslatable language.
I refuse to shrink down
clean and repackage
into letters and words.
I will project silently
haunt with raw emotion
across realms
through the dark.

Unintentional Eviction

There was a resident
In my head
For a year or more
I don't know
I don't know
But my tenant is gone
Or quiet
Either way
I can't tell if this makes me
Alone and hollow
Our just less crazy
But the withdrawal feels wrong
A calm ache in my soul
As convenient as this is
Much as I thought
This is what I needed
It's not right
And the tenant has moved on
To finer heads
I fear never to return
I'd take the storms and gut-wrench
The painful tingle in my heart
Anyday
Over this ordinary
Nothing.

Thoughts

After a peacetime
I'm always convinced it's done with.
There's a quiet of the mind.
Do and think the right things,
Life requires less effort.
The world shrinks to what can be seen
And nerves are dulled,
Emotional amnesia.
Push away, retreat, resign
Curl up and accept illusion.
It's all there is.

Southern Comfort and God Is An Astronaut

It is after midnight
and I am up drinking
alone
while the house sleeps
and I put on music
to try and force words from me
the right words
a way to capture all this
frustration and sadness
and confusion and melancholia.
Those are just words
they can't bottle any of it.
I can't help coming off sounding trite.
Oh, fuck. Screaming.
Lives move on and time continues to pass
but how could it when I'm still stuck.
Won't someone please
please
reach back and help me
I just can't keep up.
I'm so tired.

Tired

There is a resident in my head
A mirror reflecting what I need
Awake while I'm sleeping
Asleep when I'm waking
Comforting me
By existing
Communicating silently
Keeping my soul warm
When I'm
So cold.
Now it's
My turn to
Sleep.

my bulb burns out quickly

there's a light in the kitchen
in the ceiling fan
that takes these special bulbs
four of them
and one bulb always blows
shortly after being replaced.
it's in the same spot
every time
and i'm sure there's a good reason
for this
and maybe you're reading this
and you know
but i don't
and i'm too lazy to find out
but it shines so bright
for a short amount of time
and then one day
i'll turn it on and sadly
it doesn't all light up
and it casts a partial light
on the room below
and i don't want to be there
anymore
because the room just isn't the same
everything suddenly feels different
until i find a new bulb
and the cycle starts
again.

Dream landmark

I don't know if it's possible
Probably not
But I'm four drinks in
And a year or so lost, so
I'll let myself sink
Into dream
Concentrate and sleep
Convince my mind it's the only way
Wait at the north pole
I'll stay asleep forever
If I have to.

FUGGIT

this winter world seems so
gray and dirty and cold.
these people, man,
they all focus on THINGS
on buying on consuming
telling the same fucking jokes
over and fucking over
and I can't extract any Real
from anywhere.
I'm screaming, I'm fucking howling
no contact, no nothing
I will never get what I need
stuck in this same rut,
I NEED SOME FUCKING MEANING
is that too much?
it can't be that elusive,
have i just dug too far down?
I'll never be content in the shallow end.
goddammit.
why do I even bother anymore.
my heart/soul/whatever is alone.
i can't relate anymore.

new world

i've created a world
where night reigns supreme
where we can all be whole
because there exists no
obligations, guilt, distance
wires are gone from veins
only the sweet kind of pain
sleep never takes prisoners
and the air we breathe
is made of love.

mad

my brain is fragmenting
into a million beautiful
flaming pieces
and all anyone can see
is a false positive
or a blank space
where I used to be.
it's just too much
to take
as if i've stared too long
into the sun
i'm blind
i'm mad
it's so beautiful
but it hurts.

Searching

I am a vacant shell
I am on another world
Earbuds firmly planted
Head full of distortion
Whiskey taken hold
Dreams unfold
I can't be reached
By them
I'm finding the wavelength
Give me time
Until then I am
Nothing

Run down evening

The sounds are too much
The light is too bright
Rain ruins the snow
Reality ruins dreams
Absence ruins every hour
The evening is desperate
For drinks and solitude
Songs with feeling
Songs with words that speak for me.

Ninja

The words come too hard
So I just let the music
Translate for my heart

I am the master
Of revealing everything
Admitting nothing.

I miss me.

If I was let out in my form,
no not this one,
Mine.
I would walk down the dark corners of town alone
drunk
with a camera
I would wear boots and fishnets again
and smoke and smoke and smoke
be the girl I've always loved
and hid away
My hair would be so long
and I'd swing in the park alone
planning
plotting
breathing and living.
Creating worlds.
Destroying yours.
Rewind to an age when I had no time for fear.
I'd never stop to contemplate the contents of another's mind
never sweat the morning after
because I'll find my way
home
somehow.

Bottom

I'm alone
I don't know what the fuck
Is wrong with me
But I'm all alone with it
Because nobody cares
Because nobody wants to deal with me
I'm a pain
I'm useless and broken
Get help, they say
Just don't bother me with it
Talk to someone who is paid to listen
But they don't know me
They won't care, either.
I make everyone hate me
And I can't even help it
I don't know what I'm doing
This poem is horrible
All my poems are horrible.
But no one reads them
So I don't care
Fuck
Fuck
Fuck
I need a drink.

Fuck the holidays

I just can't do this anymore
Each noise
Every fucking thing
Pulls me down
The Christmas tree is still
In its box
It's a week into December
And I just don't care
Nothing
It's pointless
There's nothing to drink
No money
I don't want to think
I don't want to write
But, fuck it all, I'm doing it anyway.
Rudolph is on
I don't give a fuck
About his goddam nose.
And fuck Sam the Snowman, too.
Why is it all so shallow
Why am I so nothing and angry.
I can't tell whether my soul is sick
Or I've realized there is no soul
That we're only pointless chunks of meat
Walking around consuming
And destroying
Until we die.