What makes a monster?

Whether having hooves or claws?
Or the mere look in their eyes?

The story’s been told. Heroes know
what becomes of monsters.

Nobody wants to believe
that humans are monstrous.


When you sink your teeth into my soul,
my emotions
haunt me like ghosts-

Wounds alive,

to those who don’t believe
in magic,

on a loop,

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The long letters that are so cathartic are forbidden,
and why should no one like to read what others heal to simply say?
Why should no one will to listen so well, for so long?
Why am I so rude for asking them to try?

I suppose I am asking them to bear a burden so large
that I would not carry it anymore, so why should I place it
upon their shoulders?

I suppose I should say each paragraph when it’s alone,
even though when alone, it’s always unformed.

I suppose when I don’t know how or what to say, I should try,
and it should be simple, and I should say exactly what I mean,
what I feel.

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Romans (2015)

I don’t understand
why I can’t have
what I want.

I don’t understand 
how I want
what I don’t grab.

If I will to walk away 
while I’m longing to stay,
who am I to claim one name?

What happened to me? 
How can I 
even ask?

Haven’t I always 
this way-

“Life’s race 
didn’t cause 
me to break;

I just
stumbled up
to the starting gate”?

Am I no work of art 
but one little part 
of a whole?

Do I even 
at all?

Why am I so distinct
in my dance with the brink
if it causes me so much pain

(and the details fade away)?

‘Cuz something about this 
feels so superficial-
I’ve cued the gospel.

The psalms are repetitive!

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Only five times each day, I play like my bed frame
is a tweed lounge seat, my shelf is a welcome desk,
you are my friend by choice, and things are like they used to be-
You here to pay attention like you would have better things to do,
if it weren’t for the fact that I am your best.

Behind closed doors, I mime conversation with transparent friend,
all for imagined your strong, silent type observance.
This poem wasn’t supposed to be embarrassing, but I am
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one-way streets

You’re walking on eggshells, and everything you do to try to make it better backfires,
since some people don’t want to be satisfied.

Vindictive vendettas taken out on you,
like some people need something to be mean to,

and if they see you as a person, you can’t be their thing,
so they call you a problem and use you for their pain,

when their hate is their own fault,
and there’s nothing you can do

to make someone understand what they choose not to-Read More »

Black Dove

Have you ever been tolerated too much to be loved?
Have you ever been accepted too much to be helped?
It’s easy for you to put up with this-
Your touch is a friendly but fare thee well kiss,
a smiling from over the edge of the abyss-
But it’s killing me softly, this song from black dove.
Must you leave me here to hate myself?

Was it easier to tell me that you understand my lies
than to say you understand enough to get why I would die
for these lies that are “easy”. Is ease easier than freely?
What of peacefully? Truthfully? Unshackled or youthfully?
Have you ever come across these things? Did you stop and stare?
Or if they’re not that novel to you, would you care to share?
Do you fear what I would say? Do you fear what they would do?
Do you fear to feel the deep involvement it’d require of you?
Do you dare to fear the failure of your so-believed truth?
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I feel the cold stone ‘neath my toes,
and I feel I exist outside of me,
on the surface of this body they’ll label
“Lydia” and point to once I’m dead.

My eyes close. I stare at my eyelids,
and now I feel I’m inside of me-
Oh help! Please someone,
get me out!

I inside and outside of me…
Is me my body? Then who I am?
Me might be nothing, for that’s what I see
every single time I blink.

I open my eyes and see that my toesRead More »

Mirror, Mirror

There was a little girl I knew, with vibrant, dancing eyes;
A slender, graceful, little girl, with skin pulled taut that shined;
A careful, hopeful, spirited child with hair that flew behind;
A princess in a castle soon locked up, constrained, confined.
…Just trying to understand her land.

Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall,
Are skin-thick walls too strong to fall?
Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall,Read More »