all the things I must forget

I remember nothing,
The warp and the weave of it, the feel of it underneath my fingers.
I remember it exactly how I wanted it;
and how exactly it is.

Now when I try to find where I put down my keys,
my phone,
my life,
nothing consumes me.

And when you ask me how I am
I have nothing much to say.

xo

writing about

to say, more & less
inconcisely
without constant censure
to write right about
hungry words
 ( easily distracted)
tired of the deep
where everything is unevenly weighted against
this speech
which Could never be free
costing at least the air that I breath
not to mention the mess inside my head
tying strings around two moons
moving in different orbits
ruining everything together
misspelled, bad magic
dreaming I'm asleep
always deeper
staring stirring me up
mastering my personal misunderstandings with gravity
falling upwards
into endless blinding light.

time folds, crinkles, crumples and falls around my ankles
Seducing me with the poetry of this uneven and unfair breath.

Impossible even, oddly ruthless, yet worth more always more.

The juxtaposition of coming and going
Painfully, hopelessly, a special kind of aching
sweet soft tissues, hardly holding me in
to have no Idea, especially not this one.

intimately, anatomically, inane
insane & excited

Because everything means everything
every god damn blessed bit.

Make me

Dreaming playing paying sprouting
words on walls and pavements
dead unsaid unmeaning
the darkness sprawled scrawled
in the middle of the night
Just saying, you don't know
just how fucking happy
I could feel if I wanted to.

every very

These words are not what I want
and yet I want for what I have no words.
And oh how I've waited,
and waited
for the world to end
or for you to say something
or something, like this, but not this
God no

the feelings crack and roll
my ribs
my tongue
tangled all the way through you
through everything we loved and fought for
and life itself
a ticking time bomb
set inside my own dear heart.

My own dear heart
Do you read me? can you hear me?
Dear heart come in, come home,
come closer
I want to breathe you the fuck in
and swallow you whole
as if my life did not depend upon it
as if I did not live just for your every very beat.

Dreamspoken

Night after night after day after night
the poetry I want pours into
the things that don't make sense
and God rewrites his secret codes
in a particular humour
like this joke that is my life

But not my only life,
because I never planned to only live once
but over and over and under and all the way through
Until neither of us even care which way is up
because I'm already breathing here
deep underwater, giving the dream away.

the pulse of life

keeping a finger on the pulse of life requires a little sensitivity,
if you have to slash your wrist in order to find it you won't be able to hold it there for long.