family

I’m trying to pinpoint
the source of my suffering
my protruding collar bones
are sensing something

my lack of appetite
as i walk on the crunchy leaves towards
the early evening autumn light
around the corner to my car, hear you say bye babe
I said bye at least
hopefully it ‘s that the last time
you’ll see me

the other day on the car ride to the grocery store
you were speaking on the phone to your mom
she asked who you’re cooking for
you made sure to not name me
I’m nonexistent transparent solely
a breath fogging the passenger seat
window

she also asked if your people
got back, as in you were cooking
for the woman you’re working for
your shoes are under her bed
I don’t believe you

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#6

here is a present to
the girl whose ring I
pawned I slipped
that turquoise
ring off
of her right hand
I put her back together
painted the back of her
shirt when
she wasn’t looking

Mom

I went to visit my mother in Florida
she greeted me with a scar on
her forehead from when she
claims to have fallen while gardening

I told her that it looks like harry potters scar
there’s a lot of pain associated
with that scar
I can tell
her teeth are also missing
but that’s not new

half of her mouth is teeth
she says that it’s normal,
that’s what happens when you’re old
but she’s only 60 years old i tell her

when I arrived the dog greeted
with enthusiasm
my cat slowly looked back at me
in recognition
it all felt like a distant sense of home for a solid
four days
the same waves of sadness would come
and I left mute

a short story

I seemed to have lost the magic along the way. Perhaps it was stuffed in an old green backpack, lost somewhere in upstate New York and covered in leaves from several years ago. It doesn’t really matter when your in a new place or in mountain town. I’m making friends with the people I have known in a different lifetime. But still I feel like I lost something along the way.
Everyone is on a journey to a different country. I’m in a new place but still looking for that new country. Experience, yes, that is what I have acquired. Observation helps, like the observation I made of a temporary lover. That’s all I did actually. I watched him. I watched him as I let him into my house. He would tornado around my room and kitchen and then ask to use my bathroom. Announcing profound romance but not looking at me in the eye. I would watch the blood stains on his shirts. What’s crazy is the amount of effort he would put in to hide a major part of himself. The worst part, the addictive manipulative part. He wanted to keep that close. Let it shine. Let some air in. He’s cornered in the bathroom holding onto the thing that he has grown accustomed to and the ritual he would die for.

dog on the floor

I’m sitting with the
dog on the kitchen floor
the walls in this house
are sand timers
slow moving honey

it stops for a second
as I look at the reflection
of me and the dog

in the background is
yelling, screaming,
singing out of joy
it’s hard to tell
but its heavy and delusional

moans and groans
a heavy head
a heavy chest through
the wall
paralysis on both ends

lines …I’ll make lines
and pretend
that I’m showering
lines and
we both pretend he’s showering

make lines
tie the belt real tight
the shower water is running

end of a summer

pulse at my feet
and an orange sky
in silence and solitude I remember
what happened yesterday

beautiful in all of
your self imposed toxicity
that I never let touch me

bringing me back
into the human race

I came back from the bathroom
to find you gasping for air
blue lips open eyes
feet on the floor
you OD’d on my bed

a sinking feeling Lost last
unlocked jaw open I pour air into
a body and see
your lungs rise
your chest everything
hollow
evidence that a soul exists

the cops revived you with narcan
you yelled and scratched yourself back
into consciousness
I watched with one eye open from the kitchen
with nine lives you floated
back to standing
I’m never letting you in again

didn’t I

I had to tell my therapist
and everyone that I’ve come across
since you left
that I’m hiding all of your artwork

you wanted me to keep it
probably because you know
that I would take good care of it.
there is one fond, maybe two, fond,
memories that I have of our summer romance
one being the warmth I felt
on a hot rock
with you by the river

then driving home in the rain
while you nodded off

three, getting lost on a mountain
while trying to find the best spot
to watch the fireworks

we resulted to a playground
where you took a picture
of us kissing
I don’t remember it

in this picture the
light from the white firework
is illuminating my hair
the halo of frizz looks red
silhouette shows eyes

your face is barely in it
it’s mostly me, on fire
with a grey sky behind me