Locked In

I beat the walls
scream for mercy
give me just a little
escape
for all of my bleeding
you must believe me
I could never turn traitor
now

Here, Alone

She has a memory.  One beautiful memory.  Held in the palm of her hands, so that no one else might find it and steal it from her.  Of that one summer morning, while they still slept.  The pavement of the driveway cool on her bare feet as she stepped into the shadow cast by the tree in the front yard, and the sun burned golden at its edges.  No one must have this moment.  It must never be touched.

Because she must hold it so close to herself, she cannot hold onto any others.  Pictures framed in broken glass fall through her fingers, because there must only be one world.  One world, underneath the tree, where no one else exists.  Let the others sleep.  Let them all sleep.  She is a girl standing in the shadow of a golden halo.  She must never step out.  She must live here forever.

Ghosts

And the whole world falls apart 

explodes outside of the window
so that out there in
the darkness
nothing exists
nothing ever was

Someday my mind may break
someday my mind may snap
but you, little world,
you will tell me to believe in 
daydreams
to bleed so that you may live
to kneel so that you may rise

1988

If I raise my arms

and try to fly

only the sun will be

out of my reach

when the sun is

all I desire.

For a century, at least,

I have stood here

with my arms clasped

to my side

waiting for the dew to share

its secrets with me.

For a century, at least,

I have stood here and

waited

my palms facing 

the sky

my eyes turned toward

the sun.

The Black Hole

I cannot tell yet what you have
done to me
you are victory and you are
vicious murder
even the trees shiver at 
your advancing

But in your heart and in your heart
listen
I keep everything in the 
greying sky as I wait locked
outside
I don't mind
To be warm is a lie I lost
the reason to tell

Slow Train Coming

The defense has become the obstacle
I cannot give it up
it is giving me up
it is waving goodbye
please please please
I look out of the bus window and I see
houses and a golf course
not ready
keeps rattling at the gate
let me kiss you goodbye

just wait
just wait
just not ready yet

The defense has become the obstacle
there is no turning back

The Truth Trap

Despair rose up in me like a flash flood; it had almost reached my heart when I heard a gentle snorting noise.  The small puffy dog who smelled like cake shuffled out from behind a bush.  “Are you real?” I asked her.  “Or are you going to disappear, too?”

She cocked her head and bared crooked teeth at me, as if to say, Does it matter?

I dropped down next to her.  When I wrapped my arms around my knees and began to cry, she butted her head against my leg until I stopped.  The setting sun was hot on my neck.  “You shouldn't be here,” I told her.  “You should go back into the woods.”

For an answer she rolled onto her back. 

Tiredly I laid down on the damp, cold ground.  As I closed my eyes I heard some more snuffling sounds; I then felt her strange fluffy head rest against the palm of my hand.  We will be safe tonight, I thought to myself.  Tomorrow was anybody’s guess.   Absolute safety would never be mine to have.  It simply didn’t exist.