wonderland

can you
describe to me
what it was?
because i've never felt
more lost.
the friends i have
keep falling and falling
out from under me.
be like a crutch,
but you ask for too much.
and i have these visions
of your eyes
running in my mind.
blink once blink twice
and lie to me
say it's just
not for me to see
but just because
i've done it once
just shut up!

i don't want to be
on the outside
looking in.

but it seems i always am.

call yourself a friend indeed?
i scream at you when i'm in need.
a play on words perhaps i'll be
when you see sorrow painfully.

veins

sticky spider words
and nuclear warheads
i'll quote you
but i won't support you
the way it stuck in my throat
when i wanted to scream
i'll ease it
but i won't believe it.

tell me

how is is
that i always manage
to miss my chances?
oh, say
the colloquial pressures of
a society long gone
and still
but i always held out a hope.
forgotten
the tall shadows
in the mosque
so darling
reflecting how
the three of us are dying
because now
the three of us are dying
tell us the news
show us the girl
and stop talking to me.

mannequin

identical
to how
i'll never be
describe the worlds
you want to see
the beauty that
is in your dreams
the beauty that
is in my dreams
i live too far away for my liking
and the washing machine
sounds like
a airplane motor
coming to take me away.

too late
i've been ashamed of
the knowing and
the shying away
from mirrors
looking in the souls of reapers
because i am not
the dressmaker's dummy
so take me for one of your own.

school high

gay prom queens
and sequestered juries;
the whole world is on trial.
i close my eyes for the
political enemies of
our father.
i lied three times
to you, to him, to me
break apart
pick apart my words now;
rarely does a book touch me
in such a way.
maybe
it's just the
understanding
of such a
sarcastic villain.
i wish i'd have someone
to be myself around
but i only have
a smoking buddy
and
judgmental words.

chokehold

maybe i
smoked the wrong stuff
when i was
here without you
and
last night
turning events
have me breaking
by the neck
with the
dresses
and tresses
and me all alone
i couldn't wait to come back home
maybe i'm wrong
when i cry
without this darkness
paradise
could i ever find
comprehend
and put myself
in the mind
of a virgin?

burnt poem

suburban
housewives
in the
smoker's section
of the
singing, vesting, dancing
restaurant
like the
epitome
of lighting up
a cigarette
i'm dying
without
these blackened lungs
and tongues.

and the
lipsticked lesbians
on the staircase
look at me cross eyed
when i take out
my pack and my lighter.