She is what she is.

It’s late

and she found a way to be ok.

It gets dark,

but she’s there

even when you’re not counting on her to be there.

She watches,

she breathes.

She is as human as is humanly possible.

She doesn’t sleep

because she’s afraid tomorrow will be the same.

She doesn’t sleep

because she wants to be more.

She lies still,

willing the night away,

outlining the sounds she hears in the dark.

She sees the light sometimes,

it is so bright;

it makes her want to scream.

She sees the light

and then she shuts her eyes,

embracing the familiar dark.

Empty

To empty days,

Coward ways.

My feet,

They just lay.

I don’t move,

Neither do I grove.                                                                                                               

I’m lost,

Even on days when I’m found.

 

It’s empty here,

Where days don’t turn to night.

Where thoughts don’t turn to action.

Where sawdust meets sawdust,

On compromised land.

 

I’m not your saviour,

I can’t even save myself.

So,

It’s empty here.

Voices cling to vacant ears

And tired minds.

The green beyond,

Seems blue.

I’m still looking,

It changes now and then.

I recall seeing a bit of amber once,

But it was for such a brief moment,

It seemed I had imagined it,

In this tiny brain

That makes sense of nonsense most days.

 

I’d stop,

If my hands could understand

If they would just listen.

But that doesn’t happen often.

Nothing much happens here.

It’s empty most days.

I’m a coward on most days.

But when I dare,

The grass seems brighter somehow

Like the universe understood the step I’ve taken

To come out.

 

I’m a coward most days,

But I still dare to dare.

My dogma

My dogma,

she clings to me.

I resist and yet,

I give in.

She closes my mind to possibilities

and yet she edifies me.

 

What is it,

that  makes her mine

when so many of us share it.

What makes me cling to her,

just as she clings to me.

Will she open up my mind

or clear my soul?

Will she be my salvation?

Or just another mind block

that hinders me incapable

of free thought,

of freedom.

My dogma

she clings to me

and I resist.

I resist because I crave change

and change constantly eludes me.

Glide

It's quiet,
I can hear myself.
The milk flows down,
my throat eases,
inviting the nectar.
It's presence is needed.

My toes stay cold,
they seem distant,
distant from my breathing body.

The dogs bark,
in the nightless distance.
I wait,
for the noise
that will eventually come.
Maybe sleep will win
this battle,
against the quiet,


It's quiet now,
I can hear myself again.

Stop.
Stare.

Do not worry I will not be there.

Silence?

If I shout,
Which I eventually will,
You would not know me.
I would not know me.

Is it inevitable?
This shout?
Would you shout?
With me?
Even if I was silent,
But shouting inside.

I could not,
Would not,
Make you understand.
So if I am silent,
The shout would be silent too.

Did you understand me?
Would you let yourself,
Understand me?
I would not,
But would you,
Even though I offer,
No help,
No sanity to your reasons?



I shout,
You shout,
It is a symphony of shouts.
I am silent,
But you shout.
Where is the silence in that?

Control

My mind,

She is fornicating with my gut.

You’d ask me how I know;

I just do.

The signs are there.

They weren't so obvious before,

But now I know.

These frequent sittings of theirs

Have left me confused,

Utterly disoriented

And sometimes I can’t feel my toes.

Orgasms are the worst,

I’m left numb,

Decisions I make fall out of place,

Directions I take get blurry.

My lips release sounds that are not quite of my body.

My mind and gut are frequently fornicating,

More so these days.

They've ceased to function on their own,

Moreover they've ceased to care about their functions.

I have no control over either.

Sometimes my gut makes me do awful things,

Other days my mind controls my behavior

And bodily movement.

Often resulting in very difficult interactions with others,

Other beings,

Living and non-living.

My mind and gut are fornicating,

And they've left me out.