brazen heart

Shout the wild as you
pluck the arrows from
your heart
Drip the blood that
flows as tears
Dig the spaces of your
ribs, hear the
demons roar their
mountain fears

can one be both the
bandage and the bruise?

What is the measure of a life?
.... What does it mean to be?
And what does it mean to live?
These two are not the same.

unraveling

Lift your hand to
the tree, see the
holes in your
body, feel the
empty of your wounds
hear the hollow of
your sound as you
run from the fault

Take hold of your heart
stop, break, beneath the
blood, bend the
branch to bruise
the loud

Quake the birth to
know your signs
root the veins and
sprawl an oak to
reach the sun and
bathe in light

Find your voice to
gain your sight

lumber

From the nest into
the fields
sing the golden crop
beneath the wheat sun

With hands to sow
the joyous seeds
and the scratches that
burn, laced between
worn fingers

Red travels through the
cuts, palms
healthy as the soil
sprouting leaves and
life and green
twirl the sticks and
build a home

grey

I refused you, I
spat you out of my
lungs with venom, but
still I wait for a
word, a letter, a call;
still I watch for
your ghost
And like a child I
come crawling to this crib
alone and the world is new
learning what hands grasp
what palms can hold

I burned you like an
old album's photo
grey with dust and fondness
I ask if you were ever
real or just
an image of pretend presence
I ask if I am
still lonely, if I am
still lost. I feel the
ripples of my heart
quake with murky beats, I
pull on these veins that
flow like a stagnant sea

Breathing without a compass
dizzy from the fall
we are always at
a crossroads, crashing
cars in this
crater-covered trauma
don't forget that
constant-healing bears
constant scars

And with constant shaking, hands
melting, reaching, searching
I don't like how it feels
to start new
I don't like this
puzzle of
me
and
you