Morning Dreams

In the mornings, I reflect on my dreams while the dog tries to escape the back yard. 

“Roscoe, ROSCOE, come back this way. “

My nurse brother once mentioned a type of bruise you can’t see on the surface. Because I don’t touch my skin and feel you anymore but-

“ROSCOE!”
—I’ve had a lot of time to find my bruises. 

“Good boy RoRo, stay this way.”

In my dream we were cordial to one another and I felt so much forgiveness for you in that space.

“How was your trip to New York? I’m glad to see you doing well.”

I wake up and realize that Roscoe isn’t in this space.

“BAD BOY, get in the house. Every time I trust you, you run off, baby!”

My sister calls to tell me that I was in her dreams last night. 

I make Roscoe his breakfast. 

In her dream she could see where I was sitting but not the exact location. She drove from Florida to Memphis looking. 

She drove for hours in her dream to find me. 

Roscoe is already well asleep. Ready for his day. Moving his legs lightly. What are his dreams?

When I go back and over all the things that you’ve done to me, how do I create forgiveness in a space that you didn’t want to be in? 

How do I be kind when my whole body still rages about you?

Paloma

There is a bitterness

with every bite, as the juice trickles down your chin. 

And you grin 

within 

the duality

as tequila cools your mouth 

but warms your skin. 

Pain is fleeting, 

pain’s not sin

but pleasure is her vendable twin. 

There is a sweetness

in the squeeze, as it gets roughly stirred,

it spins. 

I spin. 

If my mind became clear

I’d tell you then

I’m really only used to gin. 

past. Dreams

I won’t regret

the dreams I had

with you in 

mind. You drenched my

eyes with your 

words. I can’t understand my

story with out you in my

past. Dreams 

don’t die when people 

leave. You’ll always 

be in my

past. Dreams

continue. Will you

dream of me too?

10/06/19

The hardest thing in life is swallowing “I love you”.

But it be harder, for me, to keep wallowing in untrue...

                ....niceties, formalities, rehearsed varieties 

all leading to emotional distressing mediocrities.

Sobriety, bitingly, never filling this cavity. 

Is it you or me who hasn’t seen this decisively?

It was impossible for me to swallow “I love you”.

But it’s possible that I just allow my own undo...

           .....from reality, totality, especially neutrality, 

from being able to hold a sense of my own morality.

When I say I want friendship, I don’t want all the pageantry. 

9/18/19

I’ve made my bed every day for 33 days

Making crisp lines before I’ve even started the pot

I forgot to take my medicine for a couple days

I used to keep it next to our coffee maker

I’ve made my bed for 33 days in a row

It has become second nature, a flick of the wrist and I’m smoothing and I’m done

I haven’t shaved in over a month

Sometimes I workout twice a day though

I’ve made my bed for 33 days in a row

But I never unpacked my suitcase 

It has been 33 days and I spend time differently

Can you tell?

9/14/19

I wipe the counters down thoroughly 

With the idea that you might see this

We opened our reposado and looked up at the moon

“It won’t appear like this for another 30 years.” I said

I rinse my sink out the way you would

Perhaps, just maybe, you’ll see it

I’m unsure it the harvest moon or the tequila

Your mouth taste new, or just different 

At the gym I’ve been going further with the barbell 

“Your chest is getting bigger.” You said  

Yesterday when I saw you, I felt new, or just different 

When was the last time that I saw you

09/11/19

I possess love that has yet to be spoken.

What’s the difference between being apart and broken?

We can’t swim, yet we dive in the ocean. 

Because I’m there, and I care, and I can’t win.

And I’m scared you’ll declare me a has been.

Wherein I’m within the only confines where I have been.

So, should we just leave everything out there unspoken?

A word unsaid is a word actually chosen. 

Am I heart apart or heartbroken? 

I possess love that has to be spoken. 

When Did I Write This?

I find my youth

in search of my high. 

Can't let loose 

or let this ego die.

I choke trying to diversify. 

Do I qualify to be known as I?

You felt young before, 

but now you identify.

Suppression to solidify.

I find my youth 

in search of my high.

The rush fools

                           me. 

I rush to gratify.

Age is a sentence I wish to pacify.

Numbness is how I clarify.

I find my truth

in search of my high.

Pain and Subterfuge

Can't let go of my anger for you

All your pain and subterfuge 

Now that our time is your revenue 

Can I make this numbness new

Every question I struggle through

Really I know the answer to 

5-12-17

Don't you ever leave.
Because I got plans for your eyes
and can't make time to grieve.
I'm messy and flippant but
far from naive.
Surely my kindness will offer reprieve
from a world who sets out to inflict and bereave?
Don't you leave.
Remember dancing?
My hand on your waist and yours on my sleeve?
We spin and we twirl and I feel like I've achieved.
I'm breathless and dizzy and look up to receive,
a glimpse of your grace,
a mental image of your ass that I thieve.
Please don't leave.
I've got promises to give
if you promise to receive.
Just don't leave.

Realness

I bring you ginger ail, after bourbon filled nights
Stuttering and stumbling to find words when we fight
I just want to see your happiness
To see your face in the light
Don't confuse wit with a cockiness
I get nervous, I get tight
Because there's anger in love
And I know it
There's pain in the closeness
But don't show it
Remember how I smell
Remember when you loved it
Because there's anger in love
And that feeling is real
I listen to your words
But, I hear only how you feel
I understand the silence
And I'm still here for us to heal
Because there is anger in love

Wednesday

Hey, you. How sweet do I taste?
Catch that drip, please don't waste.
Face to face. Face erased.
Fate defaced and love effaced.
What about my nuance? You used to chase.
Without purity, promise, a life in chaste?
Eyes misplaced with my silhouette to trace,
Remember that kiss....
                                   .......our birthplace.
Don't go too far, don't leave our space.
Please, will you just remember that taste?

Down

I'm valuable
when I got something to offer up.
I get nervous when they make you choose,
I lose,
I'm grabbing runners up.
Bottoms up, that's growing up.
If passion had a temperature,
I'm cold and I'm not burning up.
Sitting, fretting, letting, upsetting
Sweating until you ask "What's up?"
With most of what you say, I say
You are attempting to just clean it up.
I'm locking up,
emotionally stocking up.
I'm exhausted and thinking of letting up.
These conversations rarely had.
You'll read this with no follow up.

Inconveniently

Today I'm skinnier than I've ever been.
So, happiness must be around the bend?
Been.
Past participle of be.
If life has a ballot,
I'd vote absentee.
Absent, I spent me.
Cashed in all my individuality.
I'm her.
I'm he.
They want decisions.
No neutrality,
Abnormality.
Morality.
There is a winner.
No, Miss Congeniality.

R. R.

Love is a service
And we pay with time
Didn't catch your check
So I cashed in mine
Everything is fine
My life's divine
If hearts had a toll
You couldn't pay the fine
 You are lukewarm, you are a moderate
I said that I was ready, YOU were hesitant
And, I meant every word of it, all of it

Maybe I wasn't ready to submit
But you were always too lit...
                                                 ...to commit
Hypocrite
Emotional counterfeit
Knew you didn't mean it
So, I got the bill split
Don't double talk to me
I can hear and I can see
Grab some authenticity
Never infidelity
Just your jealousy

Each moment a space I've never seen before
My feet are standing here but my minds at war
You keep saying that you love me
I hit restart, restore
If it didn't work when I restarted
Guess I still needed more
Sex, sex, sex
Makes the world go turn
Flex, flex, flexing on me
You like the world to burn
Sec, sec, seconds
Of your time I've earned
Wreck, wreck, wreckage
I can't seem to ever learn
Nobody seems to have the right advice for me
And when I ask you to decide
It isn't about apathy
I've stayed up, laid up in all my chaos
Filled up, swallowed up with anxiety
And no pay off
If asked once more about sobriety
I'd still choose you
And, they can fuck off

Spring in Wonderland

My life is a conundrum
and nothing is fact
sometimes I drink coffee with cream
and sometimes it's black
sometimes I'm a girl
and sometimes I feel whack
but the task's intact
and the mask is cracked
took the pill you gave
still missing what I lacked
out of the womb
it was "redirect" "refract"
I love to pretend
to act the great act
but what is real
identity abstract
I'm not who you think
that's the fact

Feeling Liberated

No, I don't want to lose my mind tonight.
 It takes years but I learn to justify
 chemical confusions, delusions. I fight
back, but I'm losing. A medical missed connection,
confession. I haven't learned a lesson.
No, I can't be sober right now.
I could, but these thoughts are loud
screaming, seething. You don't ask me
how I'm feeling? Stay caffeinated, agitated.
I miss feeling liberated.

I reread your letter today.

"Keep up the good work-
-you really should publish."
But I've been working all night
and my body gets reckless.
As I spit towards the sky,
not understanding my successes,
I wish someone would stop me
and tell me I'm above this.
But I suffer below it,
and the evidence I dismiss.
I wish the Bible had been a guide
to actual bliss.
Instead lying and trying
just to convince,
I wish it had been about love,
I got nothing to fix.

Monday.

Nathan
I could scream to infinity
Sex, musk, and especially femininity
Your kiss is proof of the art of serendipity
And, when the mood is right and the mood has struck
As I move down your back and try my luck
I'm as masculine as I need to be
when it's time to f-