lapse

likely out of a novel, a

distracted substance 

used to invoke me.

freedom darkness in

trapped light; the coals from

our history are burning life.

death.  

rebirth.

by the time you see this

there will be nothing left of

my plural mess;

just the, broken. 

and as many punctuation 

identities made me,

purification was never

underlined or forgiven. 

underneath my skins we

were the most delicious.

over my folds we just crisped

off into melted dust;

i am no longer his mold.

i am yours.

the more

enlightened we became

the closer we entered into thruth

the further we left our belongings 

the clearer we saw our death in materials 

death in mundane verbal equally 

and depicted cinematography. 

they knew more and became dull

and hiding their tears became too 

heavy.

so they left this place

unknowingly,  as a new-birthed 

eulogy.

blackroom fluids

where we wait for the next time

promised to be the last stable stabbing. i changed the title to include

your uncapitalistic reality, of where motor skills are flavorless, slanted

salt.

the water will heal this wound and carry your formula across Jupiter's 

affair.  where the moon shone brighter 

than my skin.

wounded affairs and a portrait of

drugs. released all these t's and so

i have removed all the walls and cupboards in my body to let

you flow in and through and

allow my tears to smile.

exhale

the buried bones of my

walled poisoning. the one 

my heroic severed fear brewed 

in the open fire cauldron. i can

now wash it away with my 

hardened, softened, strengthened

tear water.

to the crown of my crows

to the spine of my bald

blood. i assure you;

my floating has arrived

to the soiled toes you called

backwards. 

i am a freedom

only captivated by my own

thirst for knowing.

knowing the truth

of my core and the

core of this galaxy. 

i am glad I kept you

longer than before 

the ink dried;

druid drips finally 

find their way.

afterlife

cognitive velvet branches 

curled up on my heavy 

heartbeat; forgiveness and

light blue swarm me.

i have waited with neon negligence

and drowned, rather than soak, my bones

in your calligraphy beard. 

i am warrior.

i am still. 

i am the truth.

i am the breathe of my

breathing 

stagnant red

proclaimed in a lost crammed space and time. 

flowering edible tears

in my taste of what may have been 

if the arrows never looked down. 

i will write between his songs, but, 

i space out within her lyrics. 

i have new glasses and 

i am stagnant as Mona Lisa's statue, in paint.

i am see-through as her, never was before, 

painting. 

i am smiling through glass jail cells. 

i am an empty walk towards it with a dark red;

a light black. 

an immediate space that does not exist.

postwar; it ended with exasperated colors

crying out for midnight air. 

stabilized red eyes and

red bruises

and red where red was never to go.

i love her full moon ritual as much

as i love her empty staircase hair.

my duty is to fly

with her on my

open

back.

creator

 creator of disruption;

a catalyst to your white

being. bloody beats and

unrhythmic freedom delays

our organic rest.

we ate the looming

rain as it poured down

2 tiers of black cement...

our home was drowning and

all we could do was wait,

and rebuild.

we stare at freedom as it rotates 

around the thicker layer of 

the protagonist.

i was waiting patiently and the 

time finally distinguished me

from her.

premature colors

 in the open of my arms

the lines set us apart. and in

the circle of our names we

gather eyelids that dropped

while stripping us away.

when we met you slid

down my tongue into

a fortress of regret ,

fear,

pain and born again,

love.

but i am a forest nymph

awaiting glory clouds to

rain fists from the forgotten

bruises.

wondering how i misspelled

our own astrology...

got me to this palace of

unknown spaces

between us, that existed the

whole time.

 

i made it out of the landfill

so now what? i stand atop the mountain i climed through, only to

stand here and feel my feet

sinking 

again. 

i no longer hear 

me

anymore.

i am drawing.  i am me and

i am a feeling more than i was

inside an hour ago. 

in Africa we met and

the space between us

did exist and perish with

an open heart and closer

children. 

my skin started peeling

and my nerves started healing 

mermaids started drying out

and my iced knuckles

turned into buckled

fire.

if i swim,I'll drown.

can you help me 

again ? every time you come

i am lesser than before. 

leaves off her sketch

a warm bath heals everything. 

even the things that broke

again 

and again. 

when i wore a purple 

so shiny 

you couldn't have missed me.

though, the grey concrete under

your wobbly broken hearted feet

should have stopped you.

from seeing her, instead of a

little birthday girl.

the stage broke that day

and real life shaped my 

war ridden tongue. 

a warm bath heals everything 

but not the broken stage

my skin fell apart on.

i forgive her, for not knowing 

how to help.

a warm bath heals everything.

it healed my wounds

into words

into your shadows

that will never darken me

again. 

I want you to make a movie out of this book

I want you to make a movie out of this thread you can see how racist you are against fragile normal.

I want you to see paragraphs in the mundane and I want you to see lights in the grey cement.

In those places I belittle the letters I want you to capitalize all the feelings of pain. This whole style is different for me but I copied it from myself.

For the 1st time this might be the last time. In a rapid glare I find solitude in your separated rainbow. From a slow flake to a snowflake tattooed against your will.. Against the floor against the wall against the dark Burgundy steam room.

I want you to make a movie out of this book. I want to Diet Coke laughter crumpled up ranch Doritos to go viral. I want signings and fame and fortune and I want to give it all back to you.

at least that happened in my head..  

places

going to them

without leaving this 

orange probability.

i am tied up with a velvet

bow, awkwardly tied

apart.

you thought i survived

because we prayed

but i am here

because i decided to

leave that world

with you.

i am starving astronomy 

waiting for the stars to glide

along the crash

testing

differences. 

seeing us and not them

in her eyes on the river's sharp

edges and on my toes framed

sequence. on the timid feather of

the strongest wings i ever did see.

through the sleeping fleece and

opened marble eyes.

with a garbage bag filled tear

and purposefully singled stare.

i was a frostbite in your home 

and directly born from within. 

i owe you a capital cry.

uncovered

diseased and ruptured in the

right ways; your ribs against

my opposite, did not attract

my freedom. i remember now,

i was walking through the street's

blisters and weaving through us were

9 ribbons of past paper lives.

stubborn poetry that kisses

the omnipotent God.

sorry it took this long to

long for your warped embrace;

i died again