You said you would call.
But you didn’t.

You said there was only me.
But there were others.

You said nothing.
And in that nothing was a lie.

You said many things.
And hidden in those things
were the truths I missed.

I guess I deceived myself.




Perhaps I had it all wrong
and together
we are all right.
Sometimes you feel like
my missing part
when you hold me at night.

The feel of your warm arms
around me and the weight
of your head on my back,
feel like what I didn’t know
was missing from me,
the very bit that I lack.

Perhaps this will work out,
things will go
our way.
Or perhaps this will be more
a short story per se.

Whatever happens later on
down that long road my dear,
good, bad or even ugly;
for now it feels good,
you fit me like a puzzle piece
so snugly.

White Bear

If I forgot it all
Would I forget
the feelings
of my depression?
Would I forget
the feelings of
wanting to die?
Would I too
forget my crimes?
I don’t deny I
still deserve
an endless cycle of
forceful forgetting
and forceful recollection.

I too deserve to be trapped
by the white bear.

But is it really a punishment if
I get to forget?

Even if it’s just for a moment.

Am I the black mirror or are you?

Not this time

Walking past
I hear their song
The clinking of their
siren call
I try to hurry my steps
And hold my head down
So I can’t see the
Mirage of an oasis
In the midst of the desert
Of my misery
I know they hold
Fleeting moments
Of relief
Followed by
Endless hours of anxiety
But still the temptation
To fall down that
Rabbit hole
And forget
Slows my tread
for just a moment
Until I lift
My head
And tell myself
To just keep trudging
They aren’t worth it.
I have to be better this time.
I have to be stronger this time.
I can’t let it all fall apart
I hurry my steps
as I walk past
Avoiding their
vampyric eyes
‘Til the last.

Not this time.

Blue Waters

I guess it was just me
alone again on this
tumultuous sea
of feelings

I thought there were
two on this raft
letting the current
take us where
it could
take us
as it would

But I guess for you
it was just a fling
and you’ve long
flung yourself off
the raft
into the sea
leaving just
here alone
on the
solitary sea.

I wish I’d known
I’d be alone
navigating these
blue waters.

If I’d paid attention
I would have known
I was always alone
blue waters.

Apparel is not Authority

You think your apparel
gives you authority
over children?

Ha what ignorant arrogance.

It’s not the professional appearance
that gives you presence
in the presence of preteens.

Its how you present you presence
that gives your voice volume
in their minds
no matter its actual

It’s not the tie and jacket
that makes you heard
your directions followed.

You could wear pajamas
or a cut-off shorts
and a ratty t-shirt
but if you have
powerful personality
and carry your corpse
with confidence
and present ideas
that inspire
and images
that generate imagination,
if you touch their hearts
with your words
and their intellects
with you vision
they will listen.

Spaghetti and Ice Cream for Breakfast

You tell us there are food pyramids
and then food plates.

You tell us
whole wheat is wonderful
we should consume those crunchy carbs
then we should eat protien
eschew and hate carbohydrates.

You tell us
we should shun butter for margerine
but now margerine is malnutricuous
and butter is better again.

Misinformation layered over
ignorance and more
obvious obfuscation
announced with arrogance
to layer over more

So many lies,
so many half-truths
and half-understood “facts”
(half is generous).

People are dying from
government disregard
and withering away from
grand gestures
empty of empathy
but full of false promise and

Why should I listen
to such licentious leadership?

Fuck your food plate.

Fuck your half-hearted
(and half is generous)
attempts at aid from
the disasters you fail
to prevent
even though you can see
them coming from miles
and decades away.

I’m going to ignore your
ignorant ideas of “healthy”,
and have spaghetti and ice cream
for breakfast instead.

Sometimes spaghetti and ice cream
is healthier than an apple,
when it at least feeds my soul,
instead of feeding me
poisonous prostrations and

How to Love

I want to love
and be loved.

I want to be in love
and know someone is
in love with me.

But I’m scared,
not ready,
I think
I just need to
be alone for a while
take it slow,
take it steady.

Let myself grow up
just a bit,
so I can know
how to love.

I Just Don’t Think This Will Work (or End it Now and Save Myself the Heartache)

I just don’t think
I’m right for you,
perhaps I’m left
by a mile or two.

I’m not sure at all
just what it is.
Maybe I lack pop,
Or maybe fizz.

I think maybe
I’m just too much,
or perhaps too little,
or something such.

It just feels like
I can see the end,
see everything
begin to bend.

A thin steele rod,
about to snap,
under the weight
of all my crap.

I’m just too bougie
yet too hippy,
just too broken
just too trippy.

And you seem just too
good to possibly be true.

A New Recipe

I know now how I feel.
How I really feel.

But I also know I don’t
have to let my heart
rule over
my head
and make the same
mistakes it
always seems to make.

Turning up the heat too soon
to make it cook
too quick
because it is impatient
and hungry.

I can feel how I feel
and still take things slow
let them simmer
rather than boil.

I can let us take things
deliciously slow
so all the flavors
have time to
get know eachother
before they even date
(much less ever marry).

I can let us discover
all the things that
make tasting something
a new recipe tried for the first time,
feeling something
so exciting
(is that a hint of cilantro?)

And I’ve enjoyed tasting you,
getting to  know the subtelties
of this combination dish.

I’m terrified of that first

That the tang on my tongue
might overwhelm
Take me by surprise.

That you (or I) won’t like
the full combination
of spices and seasoning,
savory flavors
don’t always mix well.

What if it’s too salty
Too much salt
is impossible to
(unless you add potato).

I’m fine with just a taste for now,
for a long while yet perhaps.

No need to rush,
I think this is a dish
better savored
than greedily gobbled,
better relished,
than ravaged.

My heart always burns dinner,
so my head is head chef now.

Perhaps these flavors need to
simmer for a few
more months,
whatever my hungry heart says,
I want this to make this recipe
the right way.

I want to be sure we are the right
fusion of flavors.
(some  things just don’t mix no matter
how much you love them,
sorry banana
tuna salad).

When I do take a taste,
I want it to be
all at the same time.

I want my mouth to water
at the thought
of the next bite.

I want to enjoy it for a long time.