SUDOKU

I want to be left to the blackness and the frigid dream-inducing cold. Stunning silent cracks, black on white, a frost covered pane in the dead of night. Exhale on the glass, sweating on the inside, the perfect frozen jewel incubates, produces instead sinewy silver threads, a web so fine.

social butterfly

A corner and i
Sit. Fevered, bent
Oer white sheet,
Rocking.
The lamplight
Gleams yellow, coils
And floats
Up among the charmed
Air.
If i had a glass of
Icy cold
Water, i would
Insert IV drip and float
Berg-style out of the
Window into the
Gusty grey evening.
I try to ignore voices from
The other room,
Lighters clicking-
DON'T SAY MY NAME,
I DON'T WANT TO TALK.

i wish i had it going on

i need letters of interest, samples,
examples of pajamas in
bright flannel hanging checkered
stark against the

broken
door,

white walls, a white dog,
a cat purrs.
does it have a motor?
will you
move, you sit and
pull the covers tight.
they are also white.

why can't i find the answer
in my bright polka-dotted
socks? can i read in their
haphazard discard my future,
as leaves on the bottom of a
cup?

if i could glimpse one moment,
catch one tiny fragment
in that gold
reflection,
i would run so hard
in that direction,
never looking back
behind me.
but there is only
a black hole

key-
shaped.

i worry that the story
i'm telling isn't--

what, something changed.
i'm living the story. i live
among cellos and violins
play the soundtrack to
my life.

you know i live grandly
and see a great
many things.
this is why my eyes are
so sensitive and my
ears so sharp.

whisper
WHAT?

i see images of me.
I see short gelled spikes
and glossy lips
with the perfect,

you know...

she said something about
learning to let them
go,
and we talked of thinking
like a child.
this, issuing from the deep
endless eyes,
until lid drapes the cheek
wish lash.

One Moment

In a moment
I heard solitude, the icy sting of loneliness, plunged into 40 below, reckoned with souls who wander windy moors all grey and swept by grit and emptiness.

This cavernous longing, this sensation of constantly falling through the dark is like subsisting on glass and ash. Insides become shards.

In a moment
I heard love lost, and entertained rumors of a hurt so deep it cuts to the quick of the soul; this the tender rawness underneath that threatens to fester once exposed.

I tasted acid fear, an invisible sickening grip sliding from my heart to my bowels, wringing me twisted, inside-out.

My love, to lose you would be to feel all this for one moment stretched into eternity, until I forgot to feel. Until I forgot to breathe.

josh's pants

"ride your batmobile to cuba and stick it up the dinosaur's butt."