even just a 

The obsession doesn’t 

get lifted 

Just ever present 

Ever repeated momentary 


of madness




To leave even just a

Fraction of a second

Of white



Q train 5:12 pm

not quite on the train

I am waiting on the

Dusty old platform 

Trying to forget today’s foibles

Listening to the monotonous repitition 

of the drone repeating the same tone

The train is on its way you say

The train is on its way 

And we all wait.

This communal huddling

Eventual ushering onto the ancient

spoiled car 

The rankness crisp–


The train is here

I need to dip–


just for today 

You make my blood boil 

Like I’ve been sitting on the stove top

My ass on fire 

Yet I refuse to get off

The martyr 

The witch 

the cold demon bitch 

I’ve been waiting inside the bones 

For decades 

For centuries 

to paralyze you in your sleep

Dreaming of ways to keep you fearful 

Wondering when the sheep skin will come off

Hoping I’ll wake up someday 

Hoping I can be happy






this has been an off year.
something about it
always leaves a sour and/or bitter taste in my mouth.
I haven’t had a “good” feeling in a while,
and even when I am among my family
my sisters
my brothers
there is a lingering dread
the one that consumed for years
the one that told me that I’m not good enough
strong enough
to make it through anything.
They say that a woman is interrupted so many
more times than a man
and that even if a woman says something
it is the man that gets the credit for it
they say we have to love our daughters in such a way
to teach them how to love themselves
without relying on the age-old edict
that they are “pretty”
We have to re-learn how to talk to them,
essentially talking to ourselves,
and I find myself questioning my motives
my inner-voice
my intuition
what am i really teaching myself
or rather
what am I really doing?
am I avoiding the lesson I need to teach
in fear that I am repeating the same mistakes
as my mother?
or am i really breaking the cycle,
creating a new chain
starting the beginning of a new line of me?
of us

that shit–

That shit catches up with you

The flippant spending

The facebook trolling

The late night chocolate hunt 

searching for bunnies 

A pagan ritual–

I’ve done too much 

I think this type c personality has

turned on me

My body 

Once an effigy–

Sits down on me 

Leaves me 


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This night, tonight

What does it mean to have distinction
to have a unique and throbbing heart
a siren for all the world to see?
a mysterious cloak though,
hides your eyes
they wonder what you’re for
and what you mean
you make them question their
own existence
and if everything they’ve ever thought was real
is not–
the baby cries
it’s time for dusk
a bath
a quiet
what do you want
for yourself this night
this night
is mine
this night

I don’t like this new format 

Trying to stay on top

I’ve flopped 

Almost all the way down 



Comparing the eyes of the soul

By years 

As typos 

Become tears 

I’ve ridden the beast 

Of fears

We dance the night away 

On tip toes 

This year–

Go Bloom

in the blackest darkness
i see your tiny face
my eyes adjust
and the blue around your eyes
becomes magnified.
in this embrace
i feel you are back in the womb
and together
with mother earth
we make the world