there's only artificial light here

the house is reticent.
chants and seances still hang
mute in the air
while angels enrobe us
to prevent evil from entering
like the air that enters our lungs.

candles strewn
plastic dolls broken
stained walls
white wens entangle the clean
and "do not enter"
scrawled on each surface.

my curious eyes
tiptoe over the murky walls
pleading to make sense of it all.
pleading for clarity
of the spiders that crawl and breed in my stomach.

the silence is deafening.
i can hear the slugs feasting on her skin.
they reverberate off the prison's walls
causing mayhem.

arms protrude from
every creased corner,
petting my senses,
inviting me to stay.

she tells me to leave
in a voice rung with panicked chords.
but i do not hear her.

through a white window
streams white praises
much more white than the pale sky holds.
it engulfs the darkness and frightens the dead arms back into their private tomb.

we run from the house
only two frightened school-girls
afeared of monsters in the closet.
but the monster's cancerous eye glares through a crack
watching us
until we are where birds sing again.

"you were your mother's emotional tampon"

a boy.
with ne'er a chance to be a child.
you were her blood cloth
to soak up her impurities and insecurities.
and you were cheated
your daily ration of love.
in your words,
as a child in a child's body,
"escaped."
but you are still stained-
tainted.
putrid wounds severed with hate
and dressed with bitterness
consume the air with their filthy biting aroma.
you are still all of an abused child
in the body of a full grown man.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0S3OZzsiZoI

cont.

i am a cracked sepulchral.
broken in a rooted ditch for my worthlessness.
so calloused and selfish
that i mock your sores with my own.
no, forgive me, believe me, please come back to my life.
i am your daughter.
let me nurse you back to life.
to Abba.
our Abba.
he has never failed.

what kate said

charcoal fog.
charcoal absorbed in my fragile fingertips.
sounds of brooding.
an artist's arm making love
to the paper with half-moon strokes.
we come alive.
our insides exposed.
matted hair
plastic hair
on my head keeps me small.
while you tower.

there's a chaos in my whispering tonight

letters. captured smiles. ballads:
morphed to my stomach.
i want to kiss their papered faces
and sleep with them
tight to my chest.

wait!
what is that fire for?!

such red-orange invites me to parade into it with a passionate embrace.
but with a sting.
a scalding disaster.
i cringe away,
eyes darting towards the wood to hide.
i do not want to be the victim.
again.

my companion lites her documents aflame
singeing her fingers as her tears consistently quench the flame
until her keepsakes agonizingly whither and writhe.
none but a charred gray remains.
indistinguishable.

my baby!
that damnation will never lick up my child!

i cling to my treasures in panicked desperation.
"and if i can't tell you right now or i begin to cry-
i just have to say that i love you..."

"say..."

just syllables scrawled before their time is all.
an innocent kitten, my dear,
you were only an innocent mistake.

pasteurized molecules in the are thick,
weighted
with gasoline.
in which there is no algebra or physics or english or...
or purpose.
no purpose.

one day he may come back to me....

my companion's mouth shapes the words "your turn"

no.
there is no purpose in my action.

with faltering shaking fingers
a match is lit in my hand.
my hand.

a sickening turpentine smears over my mind and clarity.
as i lite.
and lite.
and lite.
and abandon my final clinging of redemption.

smoke rolls about like the tide
and envelopes my eyes with drugs
that hurt worse than the tears
turning gray on my cheeks.
angst and dying face paint
accomplish my demeanor.

we retreat from the sin.
the silentists left to our own demise.

gasoline leaks from my fingers
and into my nose
my brain
my heart

"fire can make a concience clean"
i struck the match to see.
but all it delivered was regret.

self conclusion in one simplified motion

she stores novels in shelves of her eyes.
chronicles.
i've read and penciled and quoted few
when almond doors were open.
yet brashly reach in at times
just as the iron doors close on my hand.

oh to spend the evening atop your roof,
dash the sealed window.
no...thank God.
there is a stamp to prohibit opening.

she spoke of feigned foreign things
how an angel bared her window.
despite desperation and torn fingers
she is alive.

not just another conquered mind in a bloodied body
for no resolution to counter such an ailing soul
and descend with clamor to cruel earth
like a dog
dead on traintracks.

if my guts fell they'd be cluttered

theres an anvil on top of my chest
and every piano note
graced into a chord
feels like its suffocating my life
and i wonder if i might take
the
next breath.
or if this melancholy will murder me.

my baby

if only you knew the burden you bear.
i could not live without you.
you are safety.

dont tell me im secure in the foolish

fateless machines
oiled clocked gears spin relentlessly in service
beauty less
utilized blacks. grays. off whites.

no....such robots have hearts.

they protect and warm me. my child.
enclose me. solidify me.

street cars in cold nights
vague murmur
escort safety and sleep

mother's shower time - i was curled outside on the rug
to be drenched in such faint tapping and draining
evoked peace and security

my back up against a drying machine
thumps of clothing circling unflustered
unhurried
taught me rest with a kitten and blanket
as the warm clean smell bathed me

osculating heaters
blessing my chilled boned flesh
with unexpected warmth
lulled to dreams.

dont forget me.

I am unwraveling unbearable empty. And if this ground gives way I just hope that you'll catch me.

I am overflowing with scar tissue and blue blood.
For the HOPE written on my fingers is a false cause.
Where are the orphans I've fed?
Where are the dragons I've fought?
Nought.
This encompased prison I constructed.
You can't rescue me, you ain't that stong.
When we both mire in pathetic guilt,
you're a fool to hope for redemption.

Foolish wretch I am.
Lady Macbeth ner'e more will be scoffed.
For I have superceded it all.
Unsex my self to rid all feeling.

My heart self inflicts decomposition.
Bricks of my body collapse in worthlessness.

Daughter wake up from your sleep

Trees rejoice with the wind here.
Hallelujah.

Today, the sky is in oils and acylics.
I am wholly mesmerized.
Partially it is old oil paints
That have decomposed
And become grainy and imperfect texture.
The remaining conciliatory is perfected by watered acylics
And hasty brush stokes resulting in scratches.

Ravens fly, evoking mystery.
Swaying, they correlate to the wind's placid tune.
Their black feathers tremble
And their bleak eyes haunt.

Knobby trees produce calligraphy
And jagged teeth.
Foreground of purples and oranges.

And He treasures me over all the earth.
I am at loss.

Robot

Robot robot
Please don't cry
I know they lacerated your head away
Ripped out your appendages
Before jerking full your arms and legs
And mounted you upon the yellow wall
Opened you up so all would see
Your sprawling guts
Covered secretly
LAN LAN
Please don't cry
I see they keep you numb
And ignore your sad eyes
I know that you are not valued
For human but rather for
Your utility
So robot robot
Please don't cry
You're my best friend
In this room
With your yellow insides
Cluttered

Clarity [is gone]

Surpassing the limit at 70
And thoughts of you unceasingly haunt
What I would give for you to pilot
Us out of this forsaken anything
Deep gray speaks the sky
Clouds never lift for clarity
Only muddled thoughts that moan in brown water
Misunderstand depression
Death Cab repeats repeats
Orchestrating my scattered thoughts
If onlys
Wont leave me be
It is only 7:23