Incessant Insecurities

Unbearable aches
Faint tastes of blood.
Imaginary pot plants
An invisible picket fence,
Smiles
'I love you's
Sandwiches in glad wrap.
Text messages
Late night emails
A twenty dollar bill
Ripped pillowcase
Midnight nightmare
Inkless pens
Ripped letters
Homesick umbrellas
Scissors
Mascara
Empty foil packets
Keys
Codes
'I miss you so's
Bullets
What dignity?
Sheet of plastic under the desk
Dirty black socks
Faded black eyes
Lies made from fiction
Corridor high
You/Me
"I'm sorry"
Goodbyes

The Only Mark I've Got Is The Ink Smudge On My Cheek

The halls are bright.
Like hospitals.
Like morgues.
Like bathroom walls.
We are a grid of scribblers.
Regurgitation and frantic anticipation in liquid form
Melting over the chair onto the page
Onto the antique table.

Never does the silence come,
Ever sounding of shuffling,
Scratching,
Sickening,
Paper sliding.
And the moment of momentary halt in movement
has the hand jerking to the next minute

The knowledge that we fail to program into our system
sets off bombs in our family letter boxes.

WVFHF

Truth hides behind death.
We're blind seekers and quiet liars.
I'm lending strangers my voice for forty hours.
How do you walk in the shoes of those without feet to stand on?
I'm wanting bigger things than this.
Spare change in old ice-cream tubs.
Then you have saved a life
And the moral of the story is -
Whatever you believe to be

Makeshift Baby Doll

I've known the difference between the mask and the flesh -
Between you and me.
Between this and them.
From passing out to passing judgement,
Your dreams are old subtitled reruns.
Midnight wishes and sixteen years;
Thinking you're at the end,
Reverse/respell
You're at your end.
The minutes fade to black like drama.
Stop talking in reverse.
Your bandaids are made from sticky tape and dead skin.
That's all.