bursts of orange

Ideas are matches They light fires in spaces devoid of reason and dismissive of logic The idea of a person will haunt those spaces long after the reality shows you different You created your hearts desire then you kept it in memoriam when it couldn't withstand the light You told yourself "How could it not be perfect still?"  And then you stood aside as it bled into all that was good about you When it seeped into the carpet and made the tear stained patches crackle and pop You told yourself "Everything that's worth something hurts" You ran along side it as it streamed into the gulleys that fed your spirit  And it poisoned you.  Poisoned you into a mere shadow of yourself...  And still you told yourself "If I could come this far then it must be mine" And then you blew away... Burnt to a cinder by smoke and mirrors

The unifying salt of it all I taste my name in yesterdays uttering Every kiss affirms it Deep and knowing Then its everywhere Every crease and fold Salting Pulsing Whirring Then its there Just there... And we are encased in it With a totality that does not ebb Until you've given of yourself Completely Saltily Eternally!

"What does love represent to you? How does yours differ from the imagery and literature around you?" Fear...  I need for her to... Whisper It Make it small enough for a shirt pocket or a purse Make it light enough to carry with me every where Make it so nonthreatening my heart doesn't know to be afraid... Anxiety... I've seen people get stuck Completely and for what feels like forever In what way can the past be such a burden? Now that I've met her Now that I've seen the face of happiness I know that if she dropped my hand I'd be indentured to my past For it would always be better than my present... Self-Awareness... She knows I don't have god in me, why does she request what's not in me? Is it in the way the thicket sometimes holds marvels instead of horrors Is it in the way we search for ship wrecks like tragic treasure I couldn't be that for her Until she showed me otherwise....  **Conversat ions on bar st ools in ...

I missed it, The moment you stole the key... Now we shiver from exposure. You with the duplicate in hand, A turn coat and his turn key. Me scampering to hide from this reading of my living, A recluse and her veil.

Look what your hands have done... They held the funnel and let you pour in and out of yourself when the restraint was overwhelming They padded your face while you fought against your worst, ripping at the betrayal in your skin They crawled out even as you dug the earth to lie gently beside your yesterday They pieced together your frame for a picture of what comes next And clenched tightly around your happy Look what your hands have done... They stopped time to let your loss spin you back to stillness.

What are you? My own wind vain pointing every which way even when the breeze is light and healing even in the cool of certainty your heat makes you thrash What is this fever heart sibling, that sometimes brings snow then sun Blue then green What are you... My own mood ring feeling acute changes in infinity even though you can't quantify it I speak in honeyed litanies to atone you but your own bursts daze your spirit What is this image heart sibling that takes hues to shades simple to complicated Won't you hold... Just a minute... An hour... A day... So I can see you.

Vagary do you find me ungrateful? We're hit by your betrayal then we drown for a little bit and forget forget to remember why our chests are clogged and leaking And repeat Love was cyclic between us I think love forgot Wiped from a landscape because the players are in spin But you stay my haste and say Breathe and wait for our repose Leave the titles on the slots and wait Settle your feet when they hurry to take you away, wait Love is not forgot We are not forgot I couldn't wait any longer Think me ungrateful but think of me as I of you Whenever I can clamp down and fell the forest of pain In the moments the wind carries you to me Sometimes the whelps ache for just you For the timbre in your brand of healing Bruce Springsteen sang "There were ghosts in the eyes of all the boys you sent away" But there are dusty shrines on the feet of all the girls that had to leave...

"Do they break your heart? Friends, lovers... Even the fleeting ones? Trample around and leave with something that's yours. Tell me how you walk free" Time is the.. Water in which I'll diffuse my feelings for them.. him Watch as what once made me fumble and fold rushes into pale echoes of want Wait for it to waft into reaches unknown until my heart turns clear again *The emotionally unavailable flower child* I've stopped letting them draw blood Now my mourning is selfish, without drama the cuts in me may never fade But I won't have to worry about new ones Because the face of my healing changed She gives back to herself more than the penance she demands *The affectionate emo* **Conversations over wine and tears**

Touch me there As I silence my doubts Reach down and make me yours Show me what we could be How we could be Unplug me and feel me gush for you Let my body say what my mouth won't That I see it too Not just because I'm running down your hand... pooling on the bed... Make me ride your thigh through the slip Watch me rock and crumble Shattering us both Making us honest again That I turn away and nurse the doubt once more.

Somewhere over the Rainbow, Is a graveyard for aching feet chase what you must but not the stray ray that wakes you the fleeting sensory awakening that comforts you The inattentive lover that harms you.

Cross legged, shoes on the ground beside her she stares intently at the sky, "with me friend it's always the same" she breezily explains, "Trouble sleeping only brings dimensions to my lucidity His breath on my back heats my insides How do I tell him I need room? That I am the irony bespoke in char coloured flowers I hope and I ache then shun serendipity I wanted a him before he came Now I want instead both sides of my bed the whole of me and the silence of REM... How do I tell All the hims ?" **Conversations outside and other things**  The Above Average Yearning Heart

He said casually over his chocolate cake "Do you see this glass? Glory is resplendent beauty or magnificence, a distinguished ornament or an object of pride. An object attains glory,  if it serves the purposes intended by its creator anything contrary robs it of this glory In our eyes The cracks in this glass make it inglorious... Because we are aware they were unintended In your eyes The cracks in you make you inglorious... Because you assume they were unintended Struggle as you might you are glorious So leave well enough alone..."   **Conversations over food and other things**  The Agnostic Theologian

We sigh pebbles of regret They trickle down only to be muffled by the carpet of wasted wants Mother always warned they would come Pillagers of youth Muddying eclectic energies She never warned of a lesser self Or she didn't know to So daughters waste away gritty magnificence For the sake of false deities Lie themselves into prosaic emotionality Because the glow frightens them As it was not foretold So daughters walk around dulled A mismatch of dormant and emerging Etheric, Astral and Mental energies Sent forth with no instruction in alignment... No instruction in being their best selves.                                                                ...

In my Doldrum… This shallow of ennui I won’t come ashore until I catch a big wave To him whose demons are cathartic to my own That we may both be awash.

I have lain you down Underneath my avocado tree Next to my other broken crys I have lain you down but there you need not stay Return, Don't turn back I'll write you into my living, See you in foggy mornings and dusty boots a walking I''ll douse you on my lapel wear you in the ticking of my watch Till you're out of sight and gone for good Return, Don't turn back I'll sit down and braid those grass crowns you gifted me so often I was supposed to be part of a gypsy caravan  Not a solitary flower girl in much too chunky bracelets Where did you go friend? If I trail behind you will I pick up the path?

I am told not to punctuate my smileys But like the random capitalisation in my typing I always seem to speak in emphasis It is my constant internal climate A clime that dramatises the weather A clime that pops and crackles as it changes One never quite stable but always promising..

It's silly to leave your peace in the turmoil of calloused hands Admist the grooves of dried up blisters piled up on themselves from labours of love Labours through guitars, drums or bassed undertones and yet you find yourself trudging through the mud to be held in those hands The laying on of hands should heal, be the shawl that wraps you in feelings of solidity So why are you shivering in the cold? Is the journey the alms you must pay to stop the tick that makes you rub your female scar? You know the one.. The one that you've always had and seems ever changing The one you get the first time you are made to truly feel the weight of your gender The one that itches every time you are counted among this number The one you brandish as your induction.. So here I am soaked to my knees, rubbing at my scar, furiously determined to get where peace waits.

I find senselessness in the judgement of the layers... those that live on their backs It does not instantly invoke misery from that place my femininity lives Nor measures of wastefulness from embedded social neuroses It seems that my transitions happen in my laying down Somewhere in ceilings are the maps of my life Embedded in walls are the stacked cards In trailing sheets... Dented pillows... Bunched up duvets... I find the complicated dancing that turns thoughts into reality The freeing two step that guides her as she emerges from our laying down To a spring that has sprung just for us .

# BlackBeforeBurstsofOrange Your bitterness reaches into me in threadlike waves... Feeling around in my mind like antennae seeking out the weakness and fear, poking and prodding with fierce decision How can I battle an evil that rings such truth? Truth that lies beneath the scab of my seemingly fresh wounds, wounds once gaping tearing my insides with the intensity of their pain You seek to open them anew Awaken the void beneath them so it may swallow me whole and regurgitate me covered in bitterness and hate Bring back what once was... Throw away years of patchwork and seasons of re layering heaping myself in a stable facade Isn't it enough that no one sees me through the murk? Your bitterness reaches into me in threadlike waves... weaving in and out of  my subconscious leaving wispy emotion evoking thoughts in their wake thoughts and emotions that bring me to the point of ripping the scabs off myself The void may consume me but in chaos there is the calm of ...

Is where you are better for you? Where coloured sand bejewels the breeze Softly whipping through the air Whispering "I acknowledge your soul and I will carry it for you to summers beyond" To which you drop down Free to embody captured gusts of kinfolk and live anew