NOV PAD 2010 - Day 12

The weakest point in the chain is where the kink is;
the part that keeps knotting in on itself. The ends are moving
away from the center towards infinity
and that kink just tightens, pressured
until it breaks. You couldn't care if it breaks. It's not you.
Not you breaking into pieces. You had the common sense to be steel,
and steel can't bend backwards to fortify nickel.

NOV PAD 2010 - day 11

No One Wants You...

I'm known to be mean, but not cruel;
not an ugliness that likes to tear things apart. And I could shred you,
toss you like confetti; but I don't
thought about it , but didn't. I can't find my pleasure
in your pain; the sight of you cracked and holding pieces of yourself in.
I am no longer a hero, but I won't be your villain either.

NOV PAD 2010 - day 10

To say my heartbeats is redundant;
of course it beats, hard, in my chest
but it's just because I'm alive
or it's Thursday
not because of your presence
it's never been you.

NOV PAD 2010 - day 9 (two for tuesday)

Not until death. Run as if life is something escapable.
No one gets out alive. Be a torch, burning. Be
the ashes, not the darkness. Be the light...
Be the only thing that shimmers
like a river bed full of washed over rocks. Don't stop.
Not until death.




Breathe. While the lights streak pass
like a carousel ride, a carnival of neon. There won't always be more time.
There will always be days you're burning at both ends. Days you are the wax
not the wick. Deeply, breathe
and step lightly, the stones are loose here.

NOV PAD 2010 - Day 8

Can we agree you're a bitch? I'm willing to concede
I'm an asshole. We can agree that we're both bottled up issues.
Though you can't believe you're less than perfect,
and I'm pretty sure my mother still thinks I'm great. You disagree.
Which is fine, great, fan-fucking-tastic; let's just agree to disagree.

NOV PAD 2010 - Day 7

Pro-bed

There is an empty bed
or not so empty their are clean clothes curled like a sleeping body
on the left side. Pillows tumble on top of each other, an unkempt mountain.
I shape myself, spooning the clothing. It's cold
and blankets call my name. I answer, a whisper with closed eyes.

NOV PAD 2010 - Day 6

Looking for the Man...

Peering at me over her glasses she sighs--disappointment;
I am not the woman she planned on me being. Not the vision
of ladylike endeavors. She knows somewhere there's a "he" to make me more
"she"
less it. At least that's how she's always seen it. How she's trying
to teach me to see it; but I'm too old for secondary education. To set
in the comfort of my mold. Or maybe neither of us have walked
each other footsteps and maybe neither of us is ever going to...

NOV PAD 2010 - Day 5

I was born bare-boned, a skeleton. Threw on a bodysuit
of muscles, a coat of skin. I have been becoming,
not yet settled on been; growing into being.
I have swallowed a muscle built like concrete
and let it sink, weighing me as less than worthy.

NOV PAD 2010 - Day 4

Because veins are not highways
I cannot travel the tips of your outstretched fingers
the inside curve of your elbow
sloping under your breasts to your heart.

NOV PAD 2010 - day 3

It's easier to get warmer than cooler
add another blanket
or two. Cuddle with a pillow
or five and burrow into the mattress. Hibernate.
When you awake the sun will be half passed midday
the season will be in full swing.