on the surface the waves seem to smile. they crash so gently against the sand. but under the waves is turmoil. the seaweed is tangled. the creatures confused.

ive driven this road. ive known it as the back of my hand. its gentle slope as the road goes on. the morning sun coming over the horizon. i drove it with you.

Disappear to the stars

A silent night a forgotten band of stars
Wishing and yearning to be flying on the swings
My feet kissing the ground wood chips scattering
A quiet peace to reconcile the mind
Find somewhere secret
Take in the chilly air and just fly
Away from the maze away from this ground
Out into the atmosphere just to disappear

Duct Tape

Just shut me up, duct tape my mouth
rip off the lipstick, tear out my teeth
one by one, let them bleed.

Just let the red drip onto the floor,
splatter the tiles, salt tipped with tears,
I deserve it.

Make a zipper to zip my lips,
chain my legs, don't dare let me dance,
I did this to myself.

You know that angel? The guardian?
I lost him, pushed him away,
and only with myself to blame.

So let me bleed, take the blade
rip out my glorious hair
because it's not so glorious anymore.

Let me wake up in the middle of the night
shaking with terrors, one day I'll wake from the fog
realizing, I did this to myself.

i am the gingerman

Hit the groove, kick the pavestone.
fly higher, i am the gingerman,
superman taking flight. i don't care
about the tears or the fear.
maybe i can be a grouch,
a regular debbie downer, not
always willing to save the village.
i try, i attempt to beat flint with
a stick and burst into flames.
townspeople don't understand.
they lack the empathy to wrap
minds around a difficult life,
saving their asses. instead i work
living in the shadows, coming out
to the sunlight, ready to face the
world.

Hallucinations

Stars call to me, urge me to come up and play.
The moon seems so far away as the grass
turns electric green, surging. Red aura
lighting up the night. Flickering with heat.
Warmth, something unusual to me.
This thing inside my chest pounds,
hammers, will not grow silent.
I just want to play with the stars.
I plead as snatches of silver catch
in the corner of my eye.
If unicorns were here, they would bleed
that silver, dripped in sweat, glistening with
tiny streaks of gold and color.
The stars are busy playing with each other.
An orange lava burst, bright and drawing.
Maybe the lava wants to play.
Nah, it's gone, settling into the black below.
The stars have left me alone in darkness.

Silence is not a virtue

An empty mattress, stripped and
 alone. White fleece blanket folded
under the frame. Tan carpet
left unmarked. Silent. All of it.
Even the short blue couch,
fabric stripping. Its adjoining partner
in crime. Two mattress pads,
dorms are ever so uncomfortable.
Fake denim pale blue strips
welcoming. Heavy sigh
they would speak
maybe a smile of joy for
knowing they are useful.

The Bench

As the twirling wind lifted the crisp leaves
in a swirling circle around my head, I sat
on the wooden bench in the middle of Central Park.

Some say the best conversations come from strangers
rather my best times do not come from those with
mystery surrounding their aura.

Rather, the greatest talks come from those who
know you inside and out, the soul mate
that you share everything with.

From 'Hi' to 'What's up?' to 'guess what?'
and 'wonder if?" All that matters is you
and him, in a moment.