and never getting up.

now is the instant
i can feel it even though i don’t know why;
and i’m
one minute off the hour.

i run on
intuition alone, this time,
and it works, thank god,
because i’ve
lost my feet in the fall.

somehow i end up on the sidewalk
in pieces
held together by cheap twine & the fact that my mind is



to the sky with my arms
losing touch with my fingers & letting
my hands crawl away.

to get lost in the clouds
would be to say i was found in the first place;
i thought i was, once,
but i was mistaken.

taken backwards through time i’d blame clock hands if i hadn’t
noticed the new lines by my eyes &
those on your forehead.

there’s a lot here, to tell,
but why waste these moments on words when
the sky can say it all;

i watch the dusk turn grey & get washed away

& for the first time in a long while
i can breathe.

early mornings bring alarm clocks & back the thoughts

have you ever found
your mind works better when there’s nothing in it?

today i am cleaning out my head
so full i’m afraid i’ll choke
so instead
pierce a hole above my ear and
overflow it all over the floor
like vomit, flooding irrationality to wet down my carpet red
spray coat the wall in splatters of black & blue as
my yellow yesterdays drip down the windows
skin feels hot from where my insides spilt
all my bad memories burn my arms like my mind

i’m all green & grey & so far from all right

i’ve even shot some on the ceiling, & in the places that i can’t reach without moving the couch
my mind is emptying everywhere but
i’m not worried about the stains

i’ve done this before & i know
the next moment when i wake up
all the mess will recollect
be back neat & naughty
all locked up
surprising me the ability for so much shit to fit
in the space above my shoulders.