alphabet soup

galloping words across her tongue
pinch down making it hard to swallow
knots everywhere
knots and laces
tentacles of an octopus
encroach upon nightfall 
tied up butterfly wings
in the pit of her stomach
she does not like trembling
or blood upon her lip
those words fall back in her throat now
crumbling into tiny letters
trickling down to rest in a heap
beneath shaky steps
that visceral abyss does the rest
forcing her legs to gasp
walk forward
spit the words out
then wait for her to say yes.

use less words. stop trying to be someone you aren't. stop acting up and start growing up. let go.

look at things from a different point of view. eat. live. hold what you love close to your heart.

 stop looking for what's right in front of you. don't overlook the obvious things in your life. embrace them.

find joy in the littlest tasks. make your life worth living. every second. make those seconds count.

a specimen of myself

in the apothecary
little jars of myself
spread across gnarled shelves

a sprinkle of bees to the sky
flowers scream
my life sucked dry

pickled thoughts
in smaller bottles
hold answers to the questions
surgeons must ask

they cut away from my ashes
a self made of wax

magician

she cannot move through me
like a silhouette
or a cavity
not candle wax
to make a mold
in the cold
a canker sore
my knees
skinned to the bone
will not bend
to bow down
no crown
upon her head
she will not fool me
a jester
juggling words
artifacts
pulled from her hat
and i see through her now

canning

you are the scent

of the sky

tumbling down for me to touch

gathered up in lavender jars

i save you for another day

knothole

peeking into the hole
of my life
a knotty gnarled abyss
i step back and gasp
deepness
expands into fleshy sky
i do not wish to see
myself peering back at me
fumbling for words
to fill the silence.

carapace

do not try to pry me open
a clam shell, hard now
from brackish years
left on the rocks
your hand, a poultice
will not be strong enough.
suffering seeps from my cracks
salty tears do not die today
unencumbered nails
painted or chipped away
not rusty
cannot pry my sides.
you do not segue into me
not smoothly
not a viscous slide
from the outside through me.
I open like the weather
whether you want or not
unaccustomed to the hammer
smashing me to bits
I do not sit
still like a flower.
the crocus
the lotus
only die upon opening
a birth of deaths
and god stays away
failing to grasp
the difference.
i wear a mark, a scar
in my box wings beat
but beat me down
into the down nest
and I don't look to god
to save a place for me.
do not open the box
a broken play toy it is not
for burning tinder
at the edge of time.
I step off
and a slumber arises
hooks into my ligaments
my hinges groan
wading knee deep into the sky
with a bleach bucket
and seven matches to match my cry.
I don't look up
to see the dead moon
from my perch inside the shut
no door to creak
don't try
I have handles from hell
on the inside
for only this purpose
and god will not break apart.
I do not open
there is not a cavern
deeper to dive
apologies stuck in my throat
will not survive.
the suction sucks in
an inhale from ribs
of my own fastening
this tightness
of how many walls
only I know.