Steve, Jess, Sara

When I had the best, even the worst was gold.
The blizzard that turned our faces white
and froze the tops of our feet
only made us warmer.
The smell in that hostel made us laugh.
Money was paper; ice was water.
I couldn't be made to realize a frown where I saw it
or a sigh when I heard it.
Loneliness was an ancient word; yearning--even older.
A language lost to time.
Fatigue was a peaceful lure; neither dream
nor reality could be told apart.
I was safe from fear
because I couldn't lose.
I had them,
And they were everything.

slate

I get sick when I remember.

My stomach churns the undigested pieces of you, the pieces you forced into my mouth, the jagged slate of your affection. I choked while you smiled. How could you smile? You saw my throat convulse. I bled into the napkin you provided and forced appreciation. "The bad is good for me" you made me say a hundred times like sitting in at recess writing lines. But the bad was bad for me. My poisoned blood was foreign to my veins. I almost died.

But I didn't die. I was saved by mirrors. I saw the person I once knew, the one defined by me. It's not your fault I believed you, believed I was something else . . . for you. It's not your fault I avoided mirrors. I let you own me, but I missed myself. I never should have left me; I should have left you. I should have taken care of myself. I should have loved myself enough to be alone.

But I believed a lie
And I get sick when I remember.

half lit

Blue notes from a half lit heaven
Blue wood to hammer steel
Vibrate in a blue root-seven
Two notes to make me feel