fractured from the
pressure,
i’ve wanted it
too much,
time with you
was the good dream,
you knew just when
to leave
but taught me to
stop running.
shadow work
planted and
pushing..
strained against
a wall,
poking through
brick,
the
hair caught
between two teeth
pluck it from the source
of its seed,
much like any
weed.
a photo-
torn and taped back
together
in valiant attempt to
mend a memory
that can’t simply be plucked
like a dead
petal
from the lilies you
clutched
while his camera
stripped
you.
the past claws
us back..
and
for what?
to circle each other
in this same
twisted
cage
baring
our weakness-
in fear of the
kindness..
that may end
our pain?
while spilling
soul–
you convey
in such vibrant tones–
wish i lived in the world
you must
know,
feather hands swaying
through dialogue
as if brushing away
all gloom
to freshen the breath
of this sunlight
starved
room.
a broken pencil
lead–
the thought left to
ferment,
in rest from
sleep
i feel the
grey
thick in my bones
today.
on day’s front page
i read of
hate
then had a sip
of tea,
so frantically,
i scrubbed both eyes
as ink poured down
my cheeks
forming two black hearts,
inches apart,
i pray you don’t
think me
weak.
lately i sleep with my
ear to the sea
to perceive what’s
below,
do i hear
a faint echo?
like my own softened
voice
bubbling up from
the floor,
your deep water
whispers
leave me dreaming
of more.
i drop my wedding
ring into a
glass
to watch how quick
it sinks,
it’s senseless games
like these that
consume
me
when given time
to think.
bony leaf adorns
lit path,
the monarch
wing..
rests flightless on its
patch of grass,
in the middle of
a childless
park
on another sunday
starved for
song,
it’s rare that moments
this clear come
along.
hands in the garden 
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