Center of Night

I remember everything, a curse in center of night, when cat stares through me, and clock tick-tocks witching hour is nigh I wait cos I remember every scene unseen with eyes mine, a curse in center of night I miss you most   (image: Pinterest)

Day 13

Mom, you’ve been dead thirteen days. You were found on the seventh day of November, five days after you’d gone away. A Michigan State Police Officer phoned me that afternoon, but I didn’t answer the call because I didn’t recognize the number; I didn’t even think to listen to the message he’d left. On the

Elvis

Mama, it’s too dark at 12 in the afternoon— Elvis says he wants you. Elvis, he says he needs you, says he loves you; but not as goddamned badly as I do.   In this midnight daylight I feel five years old, wondering why I can’t have you back. I asked pretty please with sugar

And Painted the Floor

In the kitchen my mother was dead with no religion; she’d bumped her head and painted the floor.   Dead head red linoleum   Mother were your eyes closed or open? Only the cat knows as well as policemen.   Bloated bag of bones drained and taking space in chest of drawers… you don’t belong

Unforgotten

* Ev’ry morning I awake in mourning * I still do dream of you and in my sleep I hear you laugh dream of you I still do * I spied you perched outside my window pretty head cocked black beak closed I said your name so you blinked beady eyes once for yes *

Signs of (half) Life

Radio Silent, and Brain Static– (sshhh…) (i cannot hear my) Heart Beating, (i cannot feel my) Lungs Breathing Half Dead Electric Skin Sensational– (buzzz…) Static Brain, and  Silent Radio

For Carrie

Carrie, wrapped in shades of blue, you wear the butter sun, unmelting in your eyes, he knew love unearthed by your arms, extensions of a soul wrapped in shades of blue light, yellow star kissed lips true, petal soft goodbye, dispersed gossamer Angel always standing by   Carrie, my friend, my sister–I love you. Breathe

Wishing For Death: 1

Understand me. I wished him dead. I did have half a mind to kill him once, with a cast iron skillet, caught up in the white-hot frenzy. I was fourteen years old, and convinced I was prepared to murder the man choking my mother in the kitchen while a beef roast baked in the oven.

Timeless

* * Begin at the end, never ending; keep time with an unnumbered clock. * Timeless as Death, mourning never breaks. * * artwork: Symbolika

Be Still With Me

  I hide behind the shadows shading my face– can’t stand your sunshine. Sunbeams are like platitudes. I don’t need you to cheer me. Just sit with me in the dark and say, “I know.” That is enough.