Sunflower Milk (20130

 Down in Texas they’re milking sunflowers

Trying to get the sunshine out of every drop they get

You cannot pick thistles or you’ll prick your fingers

But the ones that do haven’t bled all the way out yer

I’m always up here with my toes in the water cause you don’t die if you keep your roots cool and wet

I won’t cry about it

I won’t lie either

I keep it quiet, right there in my chest

I keep it with me 

I always have it

They’ll bury it with me

That, and my regrets

If you swallow glass

It wears down the edges and turns back to sand

It keeps you warm inside

Degenerate

 I’ll put on the nice dress

Go to the nice party

But always escape

You’ll find me in an alley with my drink getting warm

Making a new friend

Living an old dream

Degens, dissidents, deserters

That’s where I go

That’s where I want to be

Fuck This Day (RBG)

 Fuck this day

Things don’t work the way I understand they should 

I stomp my feet at atrocities that are nothing while

Heroes die as we watch a tiny glass screen

Evil prevails and prevails

And we can’t believe it

This is not the world we know, or expect or were promised 

Good does not triumph

Greed and lasciviousness carry the day

And the populace is stupid

And white girl that I am

I’m just pissed that my new couch will take nine weeks to get here while

Rome

Fucking

Crumbles

(down is up)

I tried

 I need you to know these words

The love I feel

The regret I ignore

The dreams that happen because I can’t stop them

You’ll never understand 

You’ll blame me and villianize me

Even the devil has a reason

We’re all just trying to get by

And everyone has a reason

Like it or not

You’re not good either 

And I tried

Birthday

The last day I saw you it was my birthday

Now it is yours

I looked across

I said god you are beautiful 

Knowing it was the last

Now you’re hanging there in a cloud

Just above 

Out of reach

I can see you

You can’t see me

You can’t hear me

You don’t know that I’m here

Black Pavement

She slammed the palms of her hands in the product of the destruction until they were skinned and bleeding into the MIX... blood, tears, motor oil, July vapor and the stench of the river. The tears didn't trickle or burst, they pooled up and poured right out onto the black pavement, the emniotic fluid of pain. The hot birth of *loss*. They mingle with the blood pooling there seeping into the pores of the road, black and shimmery in that steamy night in July.

That throat lump

sometimes a pearl

sometimes a pomegranate

it never completely went away

if just lay dormant until ignition

it was the ball of mercury in her thermometer of Plausible Deniability...

Despite the indignity of it all, she like to maintain an image of herself as stoic, long suffering, if a little indignant

Monday PM Tuesday AM

You wouldn't believe it if I told you
Universally familiar
Not mutually exclusive
Of the truth or a fantasy

Rationalize the fuzz off of dandelions
Turn your attention to that third eye
If you talk too fast it's 'baby don't blue sky'
Walk on sharp things and it's not feeling good
What did Bono mean by bullet the blue sky

Following the night lights
Creeping down the steps
Hold the flashlight low
Searching under your own bed
Drawing the monster in your head

Goodnight 