break down, on a side road
every lane’s closed
my head rests in my hands
dreaming at the wheel
i forget what brought me here
feet pressed through the floor
to feel sand on my toes
grounded but still high
where am i in between
vast cosmos and the sea?
wash me back to shore
can’t see the road no more
so i breathe, like it’s my first
so damn alive it hurts
but they’re just words
woke to silver
light on
walls
in a bout of
restless
legs,
shapes rise and fade
as cars escape
from their own
sleepless
fates.
i’m the bearded
vixen
with a heart
of molten vanilla,
and i weep
in lipstick shades
down the mirror
every time
we play.
if love was the
flame,
we caught it
in our
teeth
to pass between
our lips
‘til first hint of
breeze
showed us it was
a tease.
is it drowning to
take in too
much
of a taste like
elation?
bliss
become
suffocation.
may i be that thing
again?
the one with
a use
that fit in the
hand
of a warm blooded
man at play.
’twas upon crooked
hill
that our house
leaned
as though to watch
us leave
for flusher
scenery,
as cracks turn
break
and paint becomes
flakes
may we never
glance
back
at its sorry
old state.
settling into
strange bathwater
i swallow soap
bubbles to
float
but drift to the
ocean floor
as though i’d
died here
before.
ever humming unsettled
these hymns of
the mad
in a key that
could strip
the shine from
life’s tip.
the harm and deep
hunger
demanded much
louder
and every last
second
rang with
alarm
as clocks went off
between the
ears.
hands in the garden 
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