Slice my muscles.

Break apart my joints.

Assess the liquids that

seep out.

Their color,

viscosity,

make up.

See my insides.

But please

sew me up

before you wake me,

and don't forget to

wash your hands.

I don't want to

stand up

and watch my organs

fall through my

fingers.

I would not survive

the sound of

wet noises as they

hit the floor.

I won't stop bleeding

on my own.

Dress my wounds.

Listen to my heart.

Keep an ear open

to the timbre of

my lungs.

Continue to

kill my pain.

Tomorrow they crack open

your chest.

Harvest arteries from

your legs.

Give you a

Frankenstein heart.

I've been having dreams

about dying on the table.

Me dying.

You.

And beautiful white doves.

It alarms me,

knowing that I've

dreamt of deaths before

that came to pass.

I have been sitting

in hard plastic chairs.

Watching your legs

fill with fluid.

Like tree trunks that shudder

under the weight of

your body.

That could snap

under the winds of

a decent storm.

Isn't that what this is?

These last few months

have been a hail storm.

Shelter is fleeting.

I am so very different.

The rain is sideways.

It has shut me up.

In some ways I am glad

for this reminder.

That the world is bigger

than my pain.

That the total upheaval

of my life is null

compared to the

fear of mortality

I see on your face

when you holler at Mom.

When you make me leave.

And how much energy

it must take

to be pleasant on the phone

to your friends,

the nurses,

the dip shit doctors.

We are so similar.

Your genes made me a nerd.

You made me smart.

And we both have

flailing hearts.

There are many ways to

get where you are going.

I am just a vehicle

leaking oil.

Coldplay comes on the

radio and

I get bored.

Change the station.

I stop at a light and

think about incandescent

light bulbs

going extinct.

Cloudy headlights.

Little red brake lights.

Demon eyes.

I just want someone

who wants to bone me

in the backseat

before I hop out

and let it roll

right off a cliff.

If it isn't right

get rid of it.

Or at least bang out

the dents.

what i would do to see your face...

to hear your voice,

to call out your name.

i can't say for sure

that i'm okay.

i can't say for sure

that i don't miss you.

i can't keep lying to myself.

i wish i could explain why

i'm devastated that you

no longer text back.

we were never

anything

but

i wish i could explain how much

that i wished

we were.

i wish that

i was brave enough

to say

what i itch to say...

but,

the day

is not today.

Love is the rhythmic pounding of a drum...saturating and shaping a world by sound...that's what love is...but love does not stand alone...it is the breaking and fall of a reed flowing through the water...turning stone after stone, making sand...love existed before the earth...the earth was a shadow and love filled the shadow in...the earth came from a place that never was...an impossibility lifted from a nonexistence...and love reaped from this miraculous reward.....we are able to hold this union by touching the long grass, breathing the blue air...a continual beat...beating till the earth is no more...live with compassion...nothing lasts forever, but love

In bed.

Dog curled against my back.

Clean sheets.

Sunlight forcing herself

on the blinds.

Blue walls create a

robins egg womb.

I still only take up half.

I wake with a start

and forget it's Saturday.

Hands hit things until

I grip my glasses,

my phone.

7:45

Don't have to be up

until 9:00

It is so me

to jump the gun.

Almost 30 years ago

I popped out 6 weeks early.

They say I was yellow.

My head looked like an orange.

I wasn't done yet,

but there I was

naked and screaming.

Not much has changed.

First lightening bug of

the Summer.

Hover about my head.

A glimmer is what I need.

Blink and glow.

I won't lock you in a jar.

I'll just look from afar

until you land on my hand.

I have realized that you don't

need to close your eyes

to go to sleep.

oh, it is a sleep so deep,

and how I will weep

when you go into

your eternal

sleep.

One scenario of life is standing behind an abusive customer who has no respect for the employee. They're loud, attention-seeking children in adult bodies. They haven't grasped the art of communication competency...the art of politeness and saving face. There will be many more lines in our lifetime. Migraine lines, sexual assault lines, do as I say lines, squat and cough lines...and yet the trick is to not be beaten down by one person's act of stupidity. And, there was a brief mention of a wallet left behind after the enraged coffee-oholic stormed out.... But, in this case scenario (for some universal reason) there is no wallet to be found.