Waiting

Whisper it to me while no one is listening

tell me I am a fool

tell me I am not

tell me something that makes sense

and then prove it

Disappointed

I was one fear closer to here

lost in a night too dark for sleeping

was it me on the ledge        or was it you

whispering

                                                                                                                            

                        do not give up too soon

do not give up

too soon               

                                                                                                                                                               when I am breaking           

I am a fool

where do I stand

I am a piece of stone mixed in

with all this sand

                                                                

yet full of proof

of what died         with you

                               

                why did you bring me here to my cyclone second

when rage engulfs this bridge from earth to heaven                    

cinder through and through                                                                                                                                                                                         

you ask too much                               you do

                                                                                                       

for one whisper like the hint of water splashed on embers

for one storybook of dreams with its message tethered 

to the fading metal moon

the sun  it can  be cruel

now that I gave too much                 too soon                                                                                               

                                                                               

                                                Is this your plan  

                

is this your one    

your great             

your smoky last demand   

or

my intention

my blue-flame doom

  

because

burned across my heart your forgotten message

the language lost in time with the words rewritten

resuscitate the girl she is out of breathing

collapsed under the hope she could not believe in

the soot was in her eyes she could only cry

was this my one great truth

did I give up

                too soon?

                

Hidden

“So how old are you, anyway?” Michael asked me.  “You look like you’re about 12.”

Stiffening, I replied, “I’ll be 22 this year.”  At his frankly disbelieving look, I dug into my handbag and pulled out my driver’s license.  “Here,” I said, shoving it at him.  Michael took it from me.  “Angela Wolff,” he read out loud, “date of birth November 25^th, 1972.”  He handed it back to me.  “Wolff, eh?  That’s appropriate.”

I had to stop myself from demanding an explanation for this bizarre and probably insulting observation.  I was at Jamie’s family home, after all, trying to make nice with his relatives.  I therefore limited myself to asking Michael, “How old are you?”

“I’m 33.  You do know that Jamie is 32, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t you think you should be playing with kids your own age?”

“How old is your girlfriend?” I returned.  “She doesn’t look 33.  In fact, I wouldn’t think she’s all that much older than I am.”

His eyes narrowing, Michael answered, “She’s 26.”

“Hmmn,” I said, but that was the end of it because Jen bounced over to us.  “Who’s 26?” she demanded.  “Me?  That’s right!  Was he telling everyone's age?  Because Jamie is 32—you already know that, of course—Matt is 31, and Michael is 33.  All three of them, right in a row!”

“That’s interesting,” I told her.  Michael let out a short laugh.  “I’m sure you’re fascinated,” he said.  “But, don’t worry, you got the one with the most money.  Well done.”

“Yes, that was rather clever of me, wasn’t it?” I retorted.  “In fact, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to Tiffany’s and drape myself in diamonds.”  I then marched into the living room, telling myself that Michael hating me wasn’t a total loss.  At least I would have one less family member to buy a Christmas present for.

I Fly in the Clouds

This one last time           come along with me                you run so slow I lost you centuries ago              now is not where you said you would be               leaving me alone and out of breath                    this breakdown in the making            where are you love      where are you sleeping            I am awake I am all aware      that I am here and you are there              you do not belong to me         you do not belong to me

Whose truth will be accepted             as war rages against my memories        I cannot say for certain what I expected          or even what I thought I believed      but I am jumping off the cliff into this pillow of air       while you are a voice warning me from the canyon floor                   because this is where you disappear               and where I wish for something more

For you to send a message please        to shoot me so far and so wide           how do I survive now love     how do I feel alive          when you call to me from an exploding star               when you sing to me from the briny deep                  how am I supposed to hold onto you when I have nothing here I am allowed to keep                    

Because he was a vision in snow       

the carrier of my fears             he infected you with my reality          he melted you with my tears               he held out his hand as I looked for you             he was the last of my projections      this hologram I could not see through      the carrier of your rejection    

So I left you near the valley stream         I left you on the greenest hill              I left you in the hardest rain            I left you standing warm and still              I left you there in front of me           thinking I had been too kind        the guardian of all my dreams         a slow motion horror to unwind         now this torn frame is the only clue  of what I can never find         what does forgiveness have to do with me    when I am the one you left behind                      

Yes you were a picture in a book          nestled between a cranny and a nook             where I could close my eyes and see       but the library locked its doors        and I am prostrate on the floor       you do not belong to me           you do not belong to me

               

Drowning

Let me tell you what I know about

my broken heart

this is the rhythm of it falling apart

toss the stones in the river because

we are

we are coming up for air again

What did I even know about

guilt and sin

all of the dreams that

I was dying in

it was a curse it was a blessing it

was utter nothingness

until it skidded and came crashing

home

No telling how the earth will

record this disaster

whistling dixie in the wind

as if I had the answer

           ballet with fractured form

tripped up by vengeful rapture

the hammer flung against

the wall

Dismantled piece by piece into

a million parts

buried back with Santa at

the Christmas tree farm

what is dead is what is real to

the falling apart

we heard the siren but not the

alarm

I wonder how I will know when

the sky becomes my master

when dreams of yesterday stop

mocking me with laughter

tomorrow is today tornadoes

circling my trailer

I was wrong over

and over again

Now I whisper to the wind about

my broken heart

failing in slow motion

not a subtle art

toss the stones in the river because

I am

I am here alone at the end

Depths

“She’s down!” someone shouted, but Megan wasn’t hurt.  She was just curled up in a ball on the kitchen floor a few feet from where Alturis lay--his dead eyes staring at the Williams-Sonoma Thanksgiving cookbook cover.

To Sleep Once More

Tired but awake again

because wakefulness is waiting for

my answer

I am ready this time

ready to embrace the disbelief

to refuse the hand that

once could pull me to

my feet

Floating into ache once more

with no morning defense

when the sun broke me like

a cudgel to

the head

stole from me any

last moments for

dreaming

Memory waits still and near for me

I am endlessly choosing I am

at last losing what allowed me to

creep through the hole in the

floor

So tired of attempting

            to end this need for sleeping