Ants crawl slowly on the cold tile floor
of a place I’d rather not be
I watch them move somewhat pointedly but
in no particular direction
Disorderly confusion, actually
I am lost and searching
and they are lost and searching
over the expanse of marbled squares
for some small crumb to carry home
free verse
Chosen
Indelible ink on skin
the blood red border of a new tattoo
A chosen scar to decorate or maybe hide the ones that weren’t
Chosen…
Only the grave
in silent darkness
keeps secrets so well
as skin thickened by never told wounds, colored and outlined in black
She
You tell her
she is worthy
and just because her dad left
and never calls to say hello
it doesn’t mean she is unloveable
And you dry her tears
and you say over and over
it’s all going to be okay
because you will be there
to pick up the pieces he left behind
Her tears, though dry
leave stains that no words can wash away
So you pray
and you love your little lonely child
hug away her doubts
seize every giggle in tightly clasped hands
and watch the sun rise in her beauty
And you realize
she is you
Ghost
The taste of dark brew
conversations overheard
from a wooden chair at the coffee shop
where the clatter of glass
a laugh a smile
all of these are reminders
of what was had and what is lost
and of the fleeting, dizzying pace of time
all things go on
as I go on
your ghost
like fading photographs
my company
Gone
her pillow is her company
since illusion has dissolved
to reality
like darkness to dawn
an understanding
that you and she could never work
despite her desire
and she was forced to face
her neediness and loneliness
and in some instances complete lack of any sense of self so lost
she hates it all and how
you strung up her dead dignity
and let it swing in the wind to be ridiculed
she was alive
the girl who once colored rainbows in black and white lines
is unpacking dark emotions
this purge may not bring purity
but it has brought clarity
and she is glad you are gone
Random thoughts
Off the top of my head
I’ve plucked thoughts of laundry
dinner and love
how one is never done
one must always be planned
and one is never mine
at least not
to my exact specifications
and how all of them
begin with something clean
a cloth a pan a heart
and end up stained
dirty broken or burnt
and I am left to (with some trepidation)
try to get what’s dirty
clean again
Cheers
Drinking Red Bull and Jäger
in a barroom where
broken promises and hearts mingle
with slurred words; distortions
and the beat of glass striking tabletops
instead of tears
an “upper downer” so to speak
that in its own strange way
helps me to take it all in
acceptance that tomorrow
is just another of the very same
day
She writes
She scrawls out heartbreak
in black ink
across white space
a solitary blood-letting
rivulets mark the page
in messy loops and turns
until a clot forms
to bottle up her nerves
and she can breathe
one deep sigh
confirms catharsis…
for now
she is ok.
Plunge
Leave it to me
to climb the ladder to the high dive
look calmly at the blue waves rippling below
and jump in with both feet
only to realize once the cool water
envelopes me…
I can’t swim.
Eyes Closed
It’s raining and I find myself
listening to the wipers mechanical sound
As they shift back and forth across the glass
and marveling at the cast
the stoplight’s glow leaves on the road
Green means go
and so I drive knowing this way
will never lead to your heart
yellow, pause take stock and
grip the wheel I know the red light’s coming
stop or go?
Hit the gas…we all want what we can’t have
even when it means we might not make it through
T-boned in the intersection
it’s possible
Knowing this still
I careen recklessly forward
slick roads and all
Eyes closed
Golifely 