Tuesday

POEM.
Watch my shadow bleed as you walk away
See my aching body float above us with only
veins. See what you did to me? See what true
love does to us? I asked you but you just starred
blank into the golden horizon. The way your lips
touch my hands on a late Tuesday. The way
you move my hair to the side reminds me of 
October. Your nose makes me smile. 

Monday

just don't. 

if you believe in jesus you can walk right out my door
and if you like steak leave me.
if you believe in love at first sight, throw up on yourself
and don't ever look back.
if you believe in evil men, just walk off the side of the earth
and never again ask me to hold the door for you.

there are things stranger than a stranger. 

pretending to be here on Earth
but in reality i'm on another galaxy ride.
men with hats and swords greet me.
i play my guitar on the train.


Poem.

don't know the difference between blue and black birds
but i do know that black birds are my favorite.
sometimes they bring upon us: death, sometimes they leave us a sign.
i don't know the difference between blue and black birds. 
but i do know that black birds are my favorite. 

poem.
And show me the real you.
The one that loves flowers at night and the
One that hates when it rains on Mondays. 
I want you all to myself.

Blue horizon skies.

Sometimes I pretend to love you and sometimes I pretend to be happy.
Some days I pretend to exist and pretend to have a purpose.
Sometimes I pretend I called your mother back.
Other days I don’t want to leave my head. 
Sometimes I pretend I am dead.



Poem. 
Drawing a blank on his name
Like the page in front of my face.
Blank. Eyes that wander and
Noses that smell roses. The yellow
Man is near the window. He says
Stay. The man in white is knocking
Down my dreams and he is demanding
Work. The old lady down the street
 From me died on Christmas eve.
So make sure every time you see
A black bird to give him a hug.
And don’t forget to throw all
Your love into the wind.
And the rug outside, has my
Dead guts on it. 
Welcome. 

Sunday

yellow is over passing.

humans come and go
pass through like light rain
on a Saturday morning
music sticks to my soul
brings me to my whole
makes me realize i am real
this is real
music is real.

poem.

news stands sell bombs in print
while grocery stores rob ya.
keep one penny in your left pocket for good luck.
ask my mother why she hates my guts,
take one last look.
the truth is right here.

poem 

laundry scares and 1999 hair.
my thumbprint is different from yours
my chores take up my afternoon
zoom by, tell gram i said hi
please bring me back to the salt water sea,
my bumblebee. 

Thursday

happy birthday to you
 you beautiful soul
i will love you forever 

Monday

ugly hair.

crumbs that will feed a village,
one million years to survive.
teachers with noses and witches with hoses. 
expiration dates, ugly mates and black ink.
Cut your eyes, hope to die.