Writing, Ideas, & Stories
a wall of mirrors
and i am invisible
raising my hands to the drapped ceiling
gold and silver
gods that saved me
but placed me here with no exit-
not a fun house or silly games
just a thousand me’s
that can’t be seen
sheen tipped arms
pressed against an isolated mirror
screaming for a handle;
taunted by gold
laughed by silver
a game
in their fun house
don’t let me get in the way
like a door stopper
just take your time;
but we see the inside
joy and love all in a single package
that isn’t on sale when I go to Target
but it is here,
trying to sign the papers to take part
but their eyes will take me apart
they know i don’t belong
just a possible gateway drug
to ruin their perfect world;
so they don’t look at me
just stand outside,
just watch
like a puppy waiting to be pet
watching her sister go instead
chalk it up to good luck
made it without mac
this is what he was afraid of
see what i am made of
i wish you could see what i became
you joined the club last week just walking knees
now it’s me survived on a breeze nowyour heart is at ease-
the man that i am- you would of hated it
you hated everything; but you would of thrown
a killer 27th club party
standing- one
no- two hundred people
and where ever we go
i see their faces
dust on my tips traces
of their existence gone in a flash
and all we can do is spend a morning in mass
begging for safe passage
begging for safe travel
for them, right, or
to rid the guilt from those still existing,
those lucky to say i love you one last time,
and across the street, kids are laughing, having chai tea
with boba.
safe passage for an invisible gate keeper
and the steps are boba
after you’ve lost your job and the world is crashing
what will you have;
when the night is swerving down the highway with a half empty glass
what will you have;
fresh off the books heading down the tunnel toward a chair and a needl
what will you have;
remembering those few days rowing down to the river with the kids
kids with a pole and some bait late in the evening with a catch
catch a memory the size of a tuna under moon before the long night
night, that night- we had it all
tomorrow isn’t soon enough
the days grow long
and the nights extend past peak
and i am weak
sick of the weeks and the days
the hours taunt me from their straight arms dancing around in circles
frequent buzz and bling
and another thing
when tomorrow
finally decides to grace the dance floor
upon your heavenly earth
i’ll be your first dance
you’re hands are a blessing;
washing away the fear
tracing your fingers along my worries
pushing your thumbs deep into my anxiety
flowing away-
falling asleep in your grasp
an angel pulling a bow back back deep into my heart
chop chop and depression won’t raise his hands to you
never lay a hand on my honey
all over my back, warmed
holding the arrow
asleep with your hands
it’s done
fixed at the source, small knife
puddle gravey between my toes
and a smile peaking through the shadows
can hear a laugh a few blocks down
harrowing; sirens closing in but it’s the laugh
feet turn to glue on every pebble skating across cold bricks and the sound of tires shredding in a closing distance
and that laugh; closer and it echoes through my ears like the gravey man’s scream-
i(whose laughing at my pain)i
drop the knife and down to your knees
and they’re laughing
the women two stories up with her baby are laughing
and the man, two blocks down is standing there
with a knife
and my belly spills of gravey
and he laughs
laughs
la-
i want you to stay-
through the weeds and lose strings
will pull those together;
replant some flowers or a tree
watch it grow old
watch us grow old
i crave you
like a climber to the mountain
every ridge, a slow march
every ridge, a climb in rhythm
every ridge, a climb in rhythm
in rhythm
every inch traveled
a craving only you can fill
a craving of you
a climb in rhythm
Saint's Muse 