Ingrate

You're complaining about the height of the bed
The lack of control, mostly how your feet spring
When the nurse lets them go
Two months ago you couldn't breathe on your own
I walk past a man and he said
"I'm a fat man in a wheelchair."
Like I should care; I hated him.
And I want to hate you too
Meds are due at 3 and not a minute sooner
The trach collar makes your neck hot
But I don't hate you, I feel sorry
I swear I didn't know how perfect our lives were
Before they weren't.

it's called a cry for help but i guess this is a wrong number

The silence between us strains miles of ocean, two lone islands masked in psychosis...or some shit. Piercing glares, icicle snares, trapped in lapping waves, drowning. What once was my warm water home.Those clear, blue eyes have a way to see through me, to see through my walls, and see through this thing I thought we had built together. Further now, it's quiet, it's conversations not happening.My strained sandpaper smoke-filled throaty screams. It's your ears don't work, your back can't hold the grappling fear, muscles giving in, shoving two more boxes in the overfilled trash can, taut plastic...taut skin, stretched and hurting, ready to tear flimsy like that transparent baby skin, but it's my skin.Get tough! Thicken up! Calm down! And just shut the fuck up! But you move in one horse blinder plane, backwards. Sometimes no plane, no movement, just silence, giving in to giving up. It's this thing growing between us, we made it, and it's dying and gasping for breath. My blob, amoeba form stretching out tubercle arms toward your bobbing schismatic, your solid land, but you just turn your head. Away from me. You turn to watch a flying and cawing gull.

Likely Unlikely Moments

Now there's wadded up tissues
covered in what's left of the face I wore today
a thousand cigarette butts
and pantyhose with dirt and grass
holes with worn in soles,
cause there were shoes we couldn't fill
so we accepted our steps, and gave in
there's also, the cake we didn't eat
swimming in fears we rarely say
along with the massive space, pensive and grave
that I once thought was between me and you
well, now that's in the trash compacter too.

anchor

Give me your eyes till you neck breaks like a rope is itching around it

itchin' like this pantyhose thin and taunt on my thick girl thighs

cause my mouth can only say this once maybe twice before it's tired.

We are not condemned in bubbles of time and space as we spark

forward or backward, whichever we choose, to a better world to come

in a better world to come, hand in hand, little atoms in the bustle of life.

It's just all this living that gets in life's way and your billowing breath

blunt teeth and words, we will grasp and nurse every minute of it

under lit advertisements, with our feeble fetus hands and wobbly hearts.

sweltering summer

my anger burns cadillac red
tendions protruding bridges
escape maps, flesh highways
endless sliding wrists
steering us lost, floating
like aerial beats
till trees flash mosaic
stabbing sunshine
wet windows with
that hot summer rain
and my face with its tears.

Pretty

"I think you got a pretty smile." he says
and I think that's pretty true, still
action potential sweeps down axons,
chemicals breakdown to elements
found in cupcakes and trees outside
cells build up walls thick, paint layers
every tenants has left a print, and this guy's
it's got a brownish hint, stomach turning,
I'd rather be happy than pretty today
but genetics, and this guy, gave me no say.

meeting indecision and opposition at every turn

chunks of thoughts melt like butter
disipate, in the hot plate of space
concepts of time insulate my head
waffling back and forth mind tennis
i guess i'll make pancakes instead.