Jumbles

here I am.
take me disconnected and falling to pieces
and tied together with ugly strings.

what you wanted pretty?
Well I never promised that.
Yea, but you thought.
well, that sure isn't my fault.

here I am.
take me in rotting pieces and
shards of ceramic
cerulean and white

remember kate?
don't you remember
i put it in my pocket
and said remember.

it cut me today.
i forgot it was there.
i'll let him think what
he wants.

you let him think what
he wants.
(between you and me
they never know what
they want)

just smile pretty one
all curls and keep
your piece
and we'll keep our peace

and some days the string
is ribbon.
satin and pretty.
mostly when i'm
with you
at the pond before the bureau

my palace

and then today I sunk deep into soft pillows of vivid reds and royal plums and burnt oranges and i let my neck stretch and draped one arm over my head and felt body melt into smoke that wound around teak posts intricately carved kissed curves and settled into the shadows of the heavy drapes
and i was so completely yours because you were no where in sight. and i drank cardamom liqueur slowly and let it slide down my throat. opened my throat and let fire stir up in my belly. it would have been harder if you were close. but i kept you far away and bathed in rose scented water. i wore the perfumed air as a robe and walked through the gardens you never gave me.
you never gave them to me and so i turned the soil with my own strong hands. i watered the vines until they ran far away. straight up toward the heavens. and they wound and they wrapped and they covered my palace
and i let them with one arm draped over my head and my body melted into everything you never loved

Done?

I've almost got enough then.
Fuck it.
I've got enough.
Deep breath.
What does that look like?
Another almost?
Another unfinished masterpiece?
No.
I can't.
I've waited too long.
This will get finished.
This will get finished.
I can't not.
Too many doors still cracked open
too many jobs undone
I will finish this damnit.
And I will do it soon.

Qualifications for life

in four minutes let me tell you why I'm worth it.
let me tell you about my skills.
I'm a great server I could probably make you smile and even laugh on a great day and I make a mean guacamole and I have frye boots and I think that that is really something and I can hulahoop like a master and once I start dancing you can't make me stop and my roasted chicken with garlic mashed potatoes and green beans almondine are almost as great as the way that I can cut your hair. but none of these things seem worth much. but really, I could make you smile on a bad day. and that's something.

Butter

I keep spread thin like butter on toast
melting in crevices and shadows that seep deeper than you wanted
not substantial I won't hold you over
I won't make time stand still for you I wish you wouldn't wish
for more than nothing.
It's your crevices that I want
it is the spreading
thin
that I can't help
the thickness of voice
keeps me floating on the surface
good thing I never put my feet down
you are up to my ankles and I want
deep
and sound sleep and bare feet on rough bark
and braches that bend
and getting lost in boughs
together
but I am too much for
that thickness of your voice
so I'll keep it spread thin
make butterflies crawl
not fly
just flutter
and didn't we want the same thing to begin with?
Oh no. Oh you thought...
I do apologize.

You

I think it's sexy when you say shitdamnmotherfucker and atrocious when he says you look purty
purty is a dirty fucking word and i don't like it one bit
and when you say shit you mean it and when you say fuck you don't trail off at the ck
and when he says purty i want to put on a glove and pick up steel wool and shove it down his throat until it bleeds and is raw and he can't say anything for awhile.
i like when we can talk and smoke a cig and pretend like we are on top of the world
i hate when they ask me questions about the practical parts of my life
it'll work itself out when the time comes, I want to say
you'll never get it I want to scream
i like the way we get lost in love together but not with eachother but we can be lost together
i would never get lost with him, he always knows where he's going
what's the fun in that?
what's the fun in that and why can't they fly away the way we do? let's giggle and climb our rocks
never say purty okay?
instead we will whisper secrets to flowers and I will keep the steel wool under the kitchen sink and he will stay the hell away from us.
they just can't fly away like we do love. it isn't their fault.
there there dear.

My Secret Garden

admit it. unlock your secret garden and loosen the noose that chokes and tightens around the delicate neck.
yes, mine is a delicate neck
and i don't like to admit it
don't want to unlock my garden unkept and grown over
with flowers too wild to be plucked and put on old wooden tables
and I am adorned in weeds that hang green and show secrets
darker than the rich soil they sprung out of
and yes my soil is dark and rich and smells of earth
overgrown but never barren
never barren only too full
and I would never ask you to get your hands dirty
but my soil is dark
and my roses have thorns and I don't like to admit
that my garden, my secrets,
are waiting for a key and for hands that aren't afraid
to get dirty