I am I Again

The agitation? The nerve of me? Do you believe in me still, of me, through me, on top of me as I sleep. As I am I again. The drain is clogged with your hair, your remains, your stay forevers. Is this what you were planning on telling me? Is this what you waited years to mutter nervously to me in a coy murmur. So so so so ssssssorrry? Moan your nonsense into my perked ears, into my daytime, into my sock drawer. I’ve got so many secrets that you thought you knew all along the song, but you just listen to the melody and my sharp voice stabbing again and again. I told you exactly what it was like to be killed and how it felt to be flung from a speeding train into a freezing cold river. I told you what it was like when my flesh was torn and my skin ripped violently as I crashed through the ice surface into the freezing cold stream. Then, I explained the pain of millions of pins and needles being jabbed again and again into my every inch as my head was yanked into the flood. I yelled to you from the brink- I yelped back at you waving from the rescue helicopter about how my nearly lifeless body banged and crash as the gush of the current ripped my spirit to shreds…all you did was nod your head. For that you are forgiven. But you didn’t even offer a blanket when I crawled out of the rapids miles from the pitfall…and for that, I wish you a cold, long winter.

A Sad Day for Soles

Soles squeaky today/ souls squeaky today/ speaking/ I’m cursed- forever fortinbras/ challenged to tell a story/ never part of the plot/ forever reveling/ what happened to all the beers/ peace to the stress forgotten/ because by Friday I’m fighting my problems into the middle of next week/ speak for yourself when you whine, whimper/ somehow this feels like a simpler time/ tied to the loading dock/ bundles dumped into you lap/ pull the boots off sopping wet, sultry sound, and missile toes spoke off shots in the magical darkness/ plum lust darkness/ knowledge form self on cliff ledge stress/ regardless of late night jumpoff potential/ and the hollowness of the cold night/ squelch the police cb/ peace be to the hoodstiff Squanto figurine, pointclick/ baby, the jury’s been sequestered/ death calls but I’ve got caller ID/ and volcanic ash that freezes my now-again so you can never really find me/ find me out/ and the rain is leaking into my socks again