humpty dumpty was pushed

Day 21, 22, 23, and 24
Damage control for weary souls



When dreams drain you (your love, mother's life, and air stolen)
i will be there to refill.
Little rich splashes of epic
chocolately wines
to show you there is substance
within a turtle's shell
(survivor trivia)
Organs of pumpkin,
sticky on guitar strings,
just cut cut cut cut cut cut cut it out:
instant fix, karmic chuckle.
if i am the symphony than you are the beats,
the swirling melodies,
the unparalleled beauty of improv that makes me
my architect of sound.
A connoisseur of words, he said
the jazz of language.
begrudgingly acknowledged blessings
manifest a knowing glow-
pondering the desire to be your immortality,
better-than-codine
to my “just messenger:”
i'll be counting the hours until Christmas morning
present upon gift unwrapped as i sink deeper
into my abyss(es) of choice
yes,
we'll bake Halloween cookies on Christmas,
shaped like random rectangles
of post apocalyptic love
i hear tennies pounding asphalt-
but no figures emerge in the
midnight nearly spent hour streetlights
traditional medicinal hymnal,
the fires are burning once more:
pride is bonfire scars, matching.
Porcelain dolls under the bed beckon like
the likelihood that the black and white
candies are merely trickery,
like popcorn ceiling spontaneity:
cloud picture constellations, flawlessly.
I ache I ache I ache I ache I ache I ache I ache
with it.
Longing for him.
Pregnant REM
I sneak away from the corners that hold sleeping beings
to a remote room that holds dark things-
of the sweetest, smoky nature,
however
see me- struggling to push the window open, it's calling to me
this night- one to find cars in flames alongside the freeway
and although it was another witness that made bare (this),
i can still feel it
from eons away
i lock myself within this oddity-sanctuary,
a familiarity that is haunting
(like the trees
slowmotion swingdancing,
eaves rustling and putting rust-singe
in my singing bones)
tonight, perfect is:
utterly alone
accompanied only by the ghost of an oversized trampoline
with tears in its springs,
remembering rainbow crystal mesh happenings
balls tossed through the gaps
from overconfidence,
misjudgment that left
a young girl hanging from one foot,
wailing in despair
(head mere inches from the grass.)
pleasure derived in my own insanity
(pray it's not temporary)
hush hush little baby-
everything is just fine.
Lipbiting secrets in the guestroom
elude to revisitations
of another time-
(will force you to-)
remember to close the closet door
each night.
Bloody Mary Bloody Mary Bloody Mar-
bawk.bawk.bawk.
I recall moments with measured seconds,
like 3 consecutive spins in the dark,
waiting for the guillotine to fall,
who will be the unlucky one to prove
unbelievers wrong?
red flash reflection.
white wooden bars hiss,
holding their poise as domestic ultraviolence
rubs against them coyly, begging,
naturally breathing away erosions of time-
sucking the dirt smear stains into itself,
opulent eyes
twinkling.
Ears feeding- every nuance, the zombies of foilage
scattering,
cloudy distance dog barking
I pick up each echo of fragment of pavement
that is shocked and shifted,
bruised in the process,
“time” drifting.
Tonight the earth is making love to itself.
The kind of love you could call fucking.
I am mesmerized, paralyzed-
both more alive than ever before and slowly dying
as i try my hardest to swallow every drop,
thick and meaty,
of the blackest plum sensuality.
The windchimes and train moans
weave themselves into the obscure October winds,
bringing with them a night for sirens
awakening tender senses,
rousing my soul in sleep.
I'm lounging in the pink butterscotch flowered prison
of a baby bed,
feet melting into the wet towels of experience
...somewhere in another century.
The leaves are laughing deliriously,
whispering in fever as they flee,
scurry,
faces hidden inside of themselves (and their coats of howling mystery)
the drapes sigh, shift their weight,
wishing to be the trunks of the shapeshifting trees,
the arms of madness
reaching [neverending] for repletion.
And with this night
(for the first time that any shade of mind could recognize)
comes the shriekings of a new age,
dawn breaks over me,
wracking waves of recognition.
Feelings intimately fresh-faced (blood stained chaste virgin)
and yet strangely and eerily familiar
like suffocation dreams and horse blankets,
closet shoe racks and black sequined disco dresses.
Taillights burn like coals
and the lights blemishing the yellow walls flicker
(i haven't believed in irony, lately)
momentary shadowboxing,
as if an invisible stopwatch programmed to pre-set
specific seconds
is reminding me to return to my seat-
the show is about to begin.
This is a land
where you try and fit all of yourself under one blanket-
then the expectation of awakening
to shivering
is replaced by the (full two armed- no half bullshit)
deep embrace of your perfect comforter,
the otherworldly comfort only a cold front can bring=
living
in the constant delight of the song ending right upon
reaching your destination.
I am Jack's bathroom stall misbehavior.
Time- like minuscule shards of glass found in an elbow
that's balancing on a busied arm
(detoxing.)
no one understands when I say I don't believe in Neosporin.