She wants to keep me around on her pantry shelf

as she sucks the other souls

glibly into her gullet

licking her fingers in feigned innocence

She stalks me through time

In her decrepit body

In a sidewise glance in the mirror

Clean hope was her enemy

It’s fresh scent leads prey off the trail

Into the thriving woods

Up the ridge and away from the bog she tends

Come and sit with me here

On the edge of the foul pond

Sit, chat, bear your pain to me

She sang in her siren’s song

Duped, drugged, and so thirsty with despair

We all went,

More than once

Let her collect tidbits for later use

when least expected

at the weakest moment

She counted on that

And she was right

They have fallen

One after another

Scrabbling for purchase

On the oily rock of her heart

The dark waves of her grief waited below for them

And as she swallowed them up

There was a moment of unity and calm surrender

Needs no longer available

her blinking beacon drones back on

She’s got to have more

To swallow

Even if in madness

She sucks her own tail down her gullet

She was too good at what she did

And ran through her stock and trade of beings

Stronger in her desperate desire

She casts her eyes to me again

Once again

Time after time

From bed

From the grave

But I learned by watching those before me

Entranced

I dodged and weaved

And slipped away at the last moment

And this time,

And every time from now until ever after

Her net will come up empty

I am already gone

Cast away

For it only weakens you further

Soon your phantom bat-wings will shake and juggle

No more

It

 MAKES SENSE

 to cry a lot.

 What didn’t make any sense was to be numb in my little bed,

 to shove away the fear, grief, unmet needs,

 then arrive outside my bedroom door,

 at the classroom door,

at the neighbor’s door

with a big smile on my face.… Read the rest

There’s the heartbreak wave

 sad and fresh

 that sweeps in over my rocky-sould

when love doesn’t work out.

There’s the horror-loss-heart

when assurance is ripped away
people,

always supposed to be

Aren’t

 and won’t ever again

 smile or breathe.

And there’s another

 Under-cover ache

Hanging around, lurking around

 waving across the night,

 just waiting.… Read the rest

Hitch-hiker looks resigned,

and yet his eyes raise as I lead my line

of cars

My destination is up on the left

I don’t want to contribute to his false-hope of a lift

I want to help him feel less pain

Walking down the car-passing lane…

By turning on my blinker

The on-coming pick-up also blinks an opposite turn

As they begin their hard curve

I make my own swerve

WHAT!!!?… Read the rest