Buried

Tired
since the day I was born
panic
and then stalling
like a car in winter
too cold to start

What Can Never Be

I dream of snow

the crunch of my footsteps

on the ice

of diving into water

so deep

and not needing air

I wish I had never seen it

never heard it

never known it

I wish I could only remember

as I ran in the snow

Malfeasance

We are one day past forever

so let me tell you a

story

full of hope and

recrimination

and yet somehow                   

somehow

            hello hello                    fire in the hole

I wonder

but I cannot get past the bluster

the suggestion dripping down my throat

We tried but

            this is not what I

kiss me good night

            as forgiveness winds around my

could we just

            a lie must never be hunted

when the game is already dead to me

I could tell you a story

full of tomorrows and redemption

but who would we be

kidding

acceptance is the poison

In this lexicon of sorrow

I am too tired to speak for myself

if you saw miracles spring from darkness

I saw only memory

swathed in charcoal dusty

dream

After

“Let’s play a game,” Alturis said.

“Let’s,” Megan answered.

“We’ll ask each other questions.”

“Great.”

“I’ll start,” Alturis said.  He leaned forward.  “Tell me, Megan Cooper.  What part of yourself would you most like to kill?”

Megan had a feeling he asked all of his victims this question; it was the kind of thing a homicidal maniac with a rampaging God complex would find amusing.  But if it kept him talking she would play along.  So she replied, “My memory.”

Alturis raised a discerning eyebrow.  “That would be too bad.   Your memory is the only thing in life you own.”

“I’ll sell it to you for cheap.”

“Fine.  Sell it to me.  Tell me why I would want it.”

“Because it might keep you entertained between murders?”

“But surely I must have a sample first, correct?” Alturis returned.  “For instance, when did you realize you were in love with your neighbor?”

Megan shrugged.  “I never was.”

“Then why do you look longingly at his house?”

“Just remembering,” she answered.  “That’s all.”

The Withering

No answers
just a howling wind
an incessantly buzzing bee
a mass grave filled with the
fallen
the ones who entered No Man's Land
armed with only a musket and
grim determination
a musket is no defense against
an ICBM
knowledge will die within you
to be replaced with rotting suspicions 
wilting hope
no seeds can be planted here
you will be left a slave to 
ambiguity
a monument to doubt

Behind the Sun

She was so adept at slipping away that it took Andy nearly two weeks to meet her.  Not on their block, but at Walgreen's, where he'd gone for a candy bar with a couple of his friends.  As Andy passed the magazine aisle he'd noticed her standing by herself, reading a Tiger Beat.  “I’ll catch up to you,” Andy told his friends.  He then casually strolled over to the magazine rack and picked up a Sports Illustrated.

When the girl realized she wasn’t alone she stuffed the Tiger Beat back into the magazine stand.  She tried to walk past him but Andy stepped in front of her.  “Hi there!" he said, smiling broadly.  "My name is Andy.  I live across the street from you.  You moved into the Schuler's old house last month, didn't you?”

The girl nodded, her face flushed.  

"I thought so.  What's your name?” 

"Megan."

Her voice was quiet but unexpectedly firm, not at all in keeping with her mouse-like demeanor.  Fascinated, Andy asked, "What grade are you in?"

“Seventh.  I mean, I will be in August.”

“Hey, that’s great!  I’ll be in eighth.  I can show you around.”

“Okay,” Megan said.  She took a step backward.  “I have to get going.”

“Yeah, sure.  Why don't I take you on a tour this week?  Show you the school and everything.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I don’t mind.  I’ll just stop over, okay?”

"Okay," Megan answered--and looking hunted, she disappeared around the corner.

Andy wasn’t used to girls avoiding him.  He had been popular ever since he could remember.  The guys liked him because he was athletic and outgoing, and the girls liked him because he was athletic, outgoing, and had a mischievous smile.  But he didn’t feel put off by Megan’s behavior.  Something about her little upturned nose and sad brown eyes intrigued him.  He wanted to know more.

Andy returned the Sports Illustrated to the magazine rack and joined his friends in the candy aisle.  "Who was that girl you were talking to?" one of them asked him.  "She's cute."

"She's my neighbor," Andy sharply replied.  "Leave her alone."  His friends grinned and made suggestive noises, but he ignored them. "Come on," he said, grabbing a Milky Way.  "Let's go."  

Implosion

There once was a girl
the saddest girl in the world
she thought she was clever 
strong
different
but when she walked backwards
nothing looked familiar
she could see only what 
lay ahead
loneliness and loss
lost 
until all wandering 
ends