GoldI don't want a heart of goldscraped from rock and stained in blood.
sometimesthe rocks speakto my bones likelong lost friendsand i wonder whati missed while my eyeswere clamped shut.
Cracked Shellsi.All the king’s horses and men graduatedfrom medical school with high honors(the valedictorian gave a speechabout a man that fell from a wall).You cheered for them,turning to me and remarkingthat science was a gift,medicine a miracle,and God a savior.I smiled and clapped with you.ii.I wish to speak with the king.The horses shy awaywhen I walk past themdown these formaldehyde halls;nobody taught the menhow to deal with grief.What is it with walls and headsWhy do they collide, whom do I blameWhen will this be over, where did you go?iii.I stole a horse from the hospitaland told him to take me into the sun,let the fire burn me through.I am ungrateful, unworthy of the manwho relearned how to walk and speakand tell me that he loves me with all his heart.Fuck science, fuck medicine, Fuck GodIt’s been a year and I wonder if Humpty Dumpty was better off.
'just' friendsi am sickof the romantic relationsbetween everything--the rain can be platonicand the birdsong benevolent.i do not needto be in lovewith the world.
wingbeatsi love youthe way i love birds--flying across October skieson to better places.
+my mother always told meto make good choicesand although she tried to teach mei never learned the differencebetween good choices and easy onesand i think that’s why i’m still here,because most days it’s harder to think aboutwhat my mother would say at my funeralthan it is to keep breathing
leaving me bethere are cobwebshanging in my headbut i can't bring myselfto take them down becausesomeone thought my mindwas good enough a placeto build a home.
wingbeats.2let me be a flock,not a bird beating wingsto two different beats.
making boys cryyou never know what’s folded in pocketsor nestled between teeth;we are wolves in wool and sometimesit’s better to watch from a distance.
choking on your elegy(tonight, tonight --)our lips touch cerulean, and we witnessan exorcism of the heavens.maybe god fell asleep on the job,or maybe we were birthed with hysteria at theskeletons exhumed from our graves of skin.in other words, we refuse to be our ownsalvation.
.the rabbits twitchin their sleep;they dreamof red bitten neckswet with spit,the birds dream of their eggscrackedand runny -the mice dream of hearingthat tabby cat screamas the teeth of life ripitwide open
.my mind said he wasgoing out to get somesanity, don't think he'scoming back becausehis things are goneand now i'm up to myneck in words that havesnapped cos i twistedthem all too far(it gets me down so much that it keeps me up at night)
.think i'm madas a hatter,just becausei want to sit anddrink tea with the deadfor a whileon a sunday afternoon?just cos i like totrace the patterns inthe woodwork onthe table with my fingerswhen we're talking,yes,something has beenhere before,and it's us,with words so wellused that they're nowdamaged andwe can't even tell whatthey mean anymore(still cramming them into the distance though)
.the seaboiled itselfclean andholy again,bones washedup on theshore,smooth asdriftwoodi lay inthe ribsof a whalea while,carve myname in thewhitewith sharpflint(in the corners of sand, dug my feet in)
.half my life sitsin this waiting room,dust on the spikeplant so thick that itfeels like grey velvet,i prod my fingersonto the sharp tips,as i sitwith a two week cleanjunkie who saysthis is terrible(i sign in, but i never sign out)
.i threwa sack overthe head ofyour dream,i marchedit out backto die(i want your mother to know that her hell is in my head and hips)
.slicing openthe tips of my fingers,four in one strokethen the thumba little flesh hatfor the spirit in each(love is dead, lilith)
.not nowi am too afraidof dreaming,if i do -the tidewill recoil atmy touchand then say, come,come sleep under me,look,the sky is throwingdown its nighttime sheets, let's gograb that loosegold thread and pull,let's watchthe stars unravel -i might have kissedthose feetof freyas soft and gentle,but you know if you waderight in i'mrough and heartless,the planets willalign, and then,three ghosts, one of themmy father, and there ain'tnothing holy'bout him,a starving dogwill run - there willbe red on white and i willlaugh, and i will standat the topof writers blockand i willthrow myself off(sleep please take me back i'm sorry about before)
.sometimes the cold holds my hands so tightthey start to burn, turn red and raw, i know it hassomething to say but has no voiceso i must feel the chill instead, it knowsno other way, i knowno other wayto saythat i am thinking of the sun(the tide comes in and licks her sandy lips, drinks in the moon and i am gone)
.tonight across the street i sawthe devil sneak into god's garden;he took trowel in hand, planted seedsin the earth, grinned real wide andshut the white gate behind him(gonna come up smelling of roses)
.hope you'redead in a ditch,cold hard hands growing weeds,hope you drop your heart with yourkeys and you can't get back into me, to the two marks you madebefore that one,hope someone smashes youopen pig and the air will refuseto lift up your lungs anymore,scurry away from your lips in the rain again,hope you're still trying to fix yourselfwith vodka and bare hands,hope you learn that if you take someoneapart and expect them to put themselves backtogether, they're going to have a few loosescrews at the end of it all,and jesus christ i rip the grass up bythe roots at 3am because i'm cruel nowand not because there's anything wrongwith my grapefruit(i know and know and know, only one i belong to is death)
.watching the skychurn itself thickerand thickerthe birds tireand drown asit sets aroundthem(no fight, and no flight either)
.i neverlearned thelanguageof flowers,never knewwhy thenettlespat itswords at mewith venom,why thosegreenforkedtonguesleft asting(i bet the sheep don't lose a wink over the starving wolves, either)
.i noticeyou bite the skin ofyour lip, toowhen you're nervousor have nothing tosay -writing is startingto feel a bitlike a disease -just like your brotherdoesyou know you'reexactly the sameas him -one that all thewords in the worldwon't ever cure -i'll just have toget to know youthat way, i guessno don't walkaway -i want the foxto hunt the hound,the badger to cullthe human(let's take a walk down memory lane, let's see if i can finally ditch you)
.you still gota heart that beats in halves?a mouth like a bear trap,don't kiss me -that anchor tattooon your foot, it still holding youdown to the earth?that skull on your chest,you still dead in there?i told you i wouldn'tdisappear again,but i kept my eyes fixedon the exit,and if i'm being honesti lied,i spoke in the tongue of my own,i was out of that door like a shotwhat a buzz -a hive full of angry words,queen of the nestfull of hate but the honey issweet when you smoke themall out of the way,get them drunk get themtalking andleaving my mouthin swarms(hope it stings)
.my mother said it's rudeto write in red, i said wellplease tell that to my skinand please, take a look at thisrose on my wrist, at the eightpints that flow through the stem(can't drag myself out of my body, so i won't drag myself out of bed)
SometimesFly on fast wings and smilebecause sometimes,just sometimes,you are quickerthan the sadness chasing you.