Repeat Line

"What can we know?"

What can I know?

I suppose that's the best place to start.
And I suppose there is space in this heart
for this question to sit..

but there isn't,
that's just it;

I can try to avoid, for fear of mistake,
but avoiding could put so much more at high stake;

I could lay it all out, put it all on the line,
but I can't untangle which emotions are mine.

This is poor.

I am stuttering.

I know nothing.

Repeat line.

the Innocence of Time

I'm not some secret Pliny;
I'm all out of metaphor.
All I am is still regretting fiercely;
I could've done more.

And if there's one thing I can't
ever absolve myself of,
it's letting him have you, hurt you,
despite all of my love.

You gave me a sword made of glass,
your love was mine, then dust;
too busy tending pride, I made
my loss entirely just.

So here's to you, blamed thoughtless,
and to me, victimized, raw,
to time and fate's innocence,
'cause, see,

I could've done more.

pin

Everything is in my heels.
Like someone came in the night
and slid all of the things that are usually
"on my shoulders",
the weight of the world,
into my shoes.
The weight of my world is in my heels,
meaning I can't walk at my usual speed..
then again,
how fast can you really walk
when you don't know where you're headed?


Sorry, that's all I've got.

Not much for a pro is it? Never mind,
'cause failure clearly is an option,
or hobby or something.
Which this can't be anymore,
'cause I may not want to nourish myself
right now, but at some point
I'll need to.

I can do this
I am strong
I am big
I just need to
get it out of my heels and

onto a page
or a line
onto a stage.

Just a stage

of transition,

I'm just in shock,

I'm sure fruition
is around the corner,
I just need more time.
And lighter, stronger heels.


I'm just so fragile,

the spaces between my own lines shake me,
the lines that used to make me
now feel bad, feel out to break me,

my lines are woven, strung up,
waiting for my neck,
my life,
dead or alive?

Line of my life, or noose?
Fight, or flight?


Here I begin.

Brave face for a stranger,
& a dropped pin.

some little things that appear sometimes..

"nec spe, nec metu,
corpus sine pectore,
all I want, you never knew,
been strange not speaking to you."

"tonight all i'm wanting to do
is fall asleep and dream of you
and all i'm wanting you to do
is think about you too.
tonight i want me to be
part of what you want life to be
all i want, selfishly, is for
what you want to be.. me."

"I've noticed a small light hiding nearby,
quietly beautiful, and way up high.
Here's hoping that's a star and not a plane,
so it'll stay, not drift away again."

"Don't think that I'm not thinking about
what I'll leave behind.
Please don't believe I wanna leave
to get away from this
family or this home, 'cause just the thought
makes me feel blind.
But there's this pull in me to work
through survival to bliss."

"lines attempting to dispel her underestimation"

I dreamt about our wedding,
about blue lines on sticks
and it's ridiculous, I know,

but in my mind you're irreplaceable,
you should know.

So It Seems

Her head is on my shoulder,
I turn my face to face her,
I feel her heart beat faster,
I tell her that I love her.

And the weeks go flying past,
yet there’s not a week to pass
when she can stop herself from coming here
and visiting me in my dreams,
so it seems…

that her head is full of questions.
and the pressure of the blood hums
as it rushes there, the tap runs,
leading water where there’s no sun.

Out her window, seeping by,
hunks of metal somehow fly,
and her longing to be up there
makes her want to scream or cry, or seem or try,
or so it seems.

So I watch as they come and go,
smiling quietly, ‘cause I know
that the more she tries to let go
and forget me, the more it grows.

And I think I feel her breath
softly resting on my neck,
as I step inside her head and find my name
etched into walls, stitched across seams,
well, so it seems.

Forever ago, we were here;
your heartbeat was all I could hear,
and we came so close, got so near,
that I could whisper in your ear,
but too soon, it seemed, all too clear,
lost by my weakness, by your fear,
and the pain of you, it still sears
through my head, my dreams, as the years
visit me, and keep us both here,
tied by tears, falling forming streams,
or so it seems…

lacrimae lunaris

The moon was so alive last night,
cast shadows strong as firelight,
pressing me to with all her might,
and so, I thought of you.

The moon won't listen to my pleas,
she slips soft through the arms of trees,
whispers across the the cold night breeze,
your features, tinted blue.

The moon's magnetic midnight light,
drew me towards the window, bright,
to view a world glowing pure white,
where we have no reason to fight

our feelings; we are lovers here,
out in this city of nights clear,
our desire free on snowy piers,
or streets drenched in moon's tears

of light, plain as what's wrong and right,
or the paper on which I write,
fierce as a child's grip on a kite..
which slips, and falls into the night.


we can't survive here, try we might,
hiding from questions, wrong or right,
too much to lose, too hard to fight
the bite of sirens; dawn's first light.

x