LOVE ME TENDER


sometimes a man gets so sad he can hardly feel it 
anymore.

there were the years you waited for love-
aching 
and now you hardly think of it anymore.

sometimes you get so alone that it just makes sense.


in the past:
i needed you to feel
my loneliness 
for me
with me
just for right now
because the weight is too heavy
and its crushing me second by second

some men take it
and hand it back
some men feel it deeply
and hate me for it.


sick recognizes sick
hurt recognizes hurt

love me tender
love me, quick.




Is that why you stay gone?





I taught  my heart to do more 
than miss him
Trained it to beat 
a less desperate rhythm
Now my heart has gone rogue,
it prefers longing
So, I'll sit here and pretend 
that you're close to me

Is that why you stay gone, 
you don't want me to stress?
But you're blissing me, 
you're blissing me

He reminds me of the love in me
I'm celebrating on a vibrancy
Sending each other MP3s
Falling in love to a song, song

Maggie Rogers - Fallingwater


"i never loved you, fully- in the way i could.."



beauty for ashes

praise for heaviness

joy for mourning


CALVARY LOVE.

your words declare you love me.

the tone is:
abandoned carnival
one last clown. standing 
in the smoke-
alone.

holding a bottle of jack,
a balloon giraffe
oh and that cynical
dollar store smile and laugh

the setting is dark
the elephants are dead
the freaks are free now
the cotton candy is gone

And the Ferris wheel's closed now that lila's dead.

And you utter again
i love you.

and i know the truth
your words: are just noise summoned by empty passion
romance you thought you learned
from a porno you saw once when you were young

if this is love. get the hell away from me.

i will love myself and mean it
i will hold myself and not break my own bones
i will forgive myself forever,

look myself dead in the eyes
and say:
Self, i love you.
purely and forever.


if you will not touch me now-

i will hold my own hand.


i fell in love with you years ago
and now that i've confessed 
my affection

the empty feeling looms
and you leave me again

alone with myself and my own love.


holding my own hand forever 

for better or worse

i will show you how to be good, how to be faithful
by being good to myself-faithful and true to my spirit.

i have hidden the word of of the lord deep down in my heart

you lack the ability
to love me properly
and you forget that i am made of dust and bone

i stand before you sustained
strong
alone.

nun hearted

dark forest

holy ghost heartbeat.

Calvary love.

watch the crimson hits the sand.



If You left the grave behind you so will I



If the stars were made to worship so will I
If the mountains bow in reverence so will I
If the oceans roar Your greatness so will I
For if everything exists to lift You high so will I
If the wind goes where You send it so will I
If the rocks cry out in silence so will I
If the sum of all our praises still falls shy
Then we’ll sing again a hundred billion times

52 Cities Deep / And His Big Weep.

oh 
my 
gosh

THE RISE AND THE FALL!
of THE chase-
the chase of all chases
the surrendering way,
you throw your hands up-

away from me.


i sway into the truth

you cover your ears
rejecting the news.

enough is enough

you chased my love
19 months

and when i say stop
you take it to heart.

The New York Post slides 
under my hotel room door
front page is your face-just for today
headline reads:
*bold font*
"the big star" with talent but in the end his pride ruins it all"
headline is:
"charming cliche of a man
chases a lovely woman 
catches her
tricks her
only to run away!
 after his tour extended past may.
(tour sales down despite  radio plays)

headline says:
" majority of charismatic men are all sad at night-
no matter how many fans they have!
the price of extroversion:
is pain!
the price of the lead role is:
loneliness 
and no one to call
when you feel like
dying 
like, for real this time"


the rise and fall of
whatever the hell that was
just late night calls and
static, so much static.

flash forward to you leaving
for a new pair of eyes
lips
hair
hands
words.

52 cities deep:
you will find a version of me,
In her.

A fever dream fantasy
you will seek

Flash forward to 2am
The south, about to enter REM

picture those haunted hallways 
where a woman's intuition
and her subconscious meet
(repeat repeat repeat)

I don't miss him because you can't miss a person who 
never really knew you
only the fantasy of you
that they crafted
based on what?
a cartoon?

i don't dream of him, ever.

i dream of heath ledger wearing a fisherman sweater on a pale beach
and the little mermaid when she gets her new feet.

9 cities later:
back to my replacement

Crystal ball says its a girl with a common middle name
a girl who is younger than me
with less sorrowing  in her eyes 
less words in her vocabulary
never left the Midwest
hasn't heard of Budapest 
you speak and she cheers
you ignore her and she
feels she's done something wrong
you're her sun
and she needs you now
to function
she's too young to know
that the cycle starts
with the chase
ends with the escape
the silence
the amnesia 
skip to 2 years later 
December in Ohio
"don't i know you from somewhere"
and he is honestly asking you this
because he is the sun
self appointed but
the sun

move on to the far east
its late spring
she's a college girl
less fight in her swing
less pain. fewer memories
fewer lives
fewer mistakes
maybe a girl who has a sister that's not dead
ans haunting her family
maybe her story is less heartbreak
less weeping
more singing
Wednesday night testimony girl
in a jean skirt
pretty face
big flirt

the winter you flew to Europe 
the winter you stopped calling your father
middle of nowhere on a train headed to Paris
you see her
and she is close to resembling me
just a little bit.

you open your mouth
to begin the game
the cycle is spinning
and she laughs in your face
she walks
away
and the daily mail
has given you a nickname now
one that you hate
headline says:
"you're looking weak"
they interview a nutritionist who speculates on your shrinking frame
"hollow eyes
lack of smile
pale complexion"   

headline reads:
"ALIVE but mostly dead"

And the women sitting outside of a cafe the morning of the headlines
you refuse to read from today
feel sorry for you.
feel happy they have boyfriends who love them 
in the purest way.
love without a timeline, without the seduction of fame

that's the thing about good women
we were born wearing our crowns
wisdom is our best friend
discernment is engraved in the bones of our bodies
our skin is made of prophetic cells
our hearts are homes for the holy spirit
and the love for babies and pale oceans

you write me to tell me
"i miss you. I'm lonely"
i read this and feel nothing.

i reply with the sunglass emoji.

you cursing the day we began
is how that conversation came to an end.


sometimes, i miss the wolves that used to chase me
but for the most part, I don't.

i know they will be back
for more heartbreak
a sad woman is worth more than a million happy ones
the currency of pain: to feel anything in a country so numb
is a delicacy
just a gram of her sadness
will cost you a piece of your soul but my god
it's worth it a thousand time over
like crack cocaine
they beg me for romance
knowing the high won’t stay
the comedown is coming
the sun is rising with the throbbing craving
for more
addicted to this second hand ache
with
still born stories of hope
laced in hate
a future we can’t hold
we can barley create
in the corners of the town that neither of us claim
curating heartbreak
calling it fate.


the sickness

All I wanted from you,

Was a man staring back at me 
like I was something he couldn't lose


So I rolled the dice
walked from The Chelsea Hotel to 159th

the years go by
i run,
you do not follow.
and just as the tears have dried
you come back
with a heavy sentiment
like the past was just a dream,like its not 2016
you confess that you still miss me,
with a familiar tenderness


you are dancing around our memories
like its holy ground
you begin to glorify my
humaness
and i remember this feeling
the pressure to be all that you want me to be
the idea
you challange me to shrink once more

i digress 

i think how in the world
is it you?

how did you come back to me?
is it fate or the way broken hearts form this addiction to pain

am i to be the villain in your narrative?
could you only be with me when i was sick
and young and crying all the time

now that i am strong
you seem to be unsure


the madness of static


The addicts that find me-

In the peace of the morning,
bathing in a soft white light.

Between the purity and the devotion to what is holy. 
I am nun like in December-and happy here alone. 

The Holy Spirit flows from my veins 
and he calls it magic. 

The high of the supernatural fuels his pursuit of me. 
He speaks of my spirit and he's manic
with tunnel vision he wants it
the addict is angry
Can't steal it
can't reach it
can't buy it off the street
Thinks I'm keeping secrets.
i speak of Jesus and he turns violent. 

 And I'm covered in black fabric 
in a forest like always/
Solitude in Tennessee

He calls me his future.
I watch his mouth move and I keep thinking...
"how insane!"

Addicted to the second hand smoke of
the Holy Ghost 

He is relentless,
stubborn
static 
and shifty 
with

still born stories of hope.

He speaks to me with 
Strange fantasies 
laced in hate
Paints me a picture of the future 
a future we can’t hold.

Calls me weeping says it's just withdrawals  
says he barley creates anymore 
says the lack of me is cruelty 
He needs the clouds
to think 
to feel alive 
to come close to peace
to sleep

The addict seeks me like an orphaned wolf-

He howls my name each night 
in the corners of this town
that neither of us claim

The wolf is busy:
curating heartbreak
calling it fate.

Insane. 




 I FEEL YOU IN MY DREAMS



































I feel it in my bones you're about to move...

In Lou of it all...I felt love my whole life-
Even when I longed for it.

rituals

eventually you get sick of the graveyards you visit
so you build new ones

this cycle goes on and on

gradually you leave the rituals
that kept you alive
alive just to mourn the dead
is no way to live.

with respect for the good ones gone:
let them fly. they have wings. they are the light in all things.

and for the rest of them:

let the dead bury the dead

listen to the soil

doing the job you thought was your own.


wash.

There is no shame in the early morning hours.
Moonlight on your pain:
The cleansing wax and wane.

How you would start a fire in the desert:
Sun on object-
light on body
forming:
fire on wound
burning the ache
into beautiful flames
(the reverse)
/
I am not ashamed of the moon on my back
I will not conceal my pain for you.



Your prayers are the sand scattered in the wind.

THE THICK SICK BLACK BULK OF IT:
Does not kill you, i’m sorry.
Right before the glory, you will want to die.
Talking to yourself like you would a child:
Surely this was THE Desert, THE Dark Night.

And the sun says, Yes..
And the desert answers:
Your prayers are now sand scattered in wind/
The healing is here,it is all around you.

And beyond your decade long view-that exalted
solitude 

The Glory rises/
The Kingdom comes.

The promise land you bled for: arrives with angels singing

Your prayers are the sand scattered in wind

The night always ends,
I'm sorry.

The glory wins
The glory wins
The glory wins

Your prayers are the sand scattered in wind.


Sadness is my boyfriend

"expect sadness
like
you expect rain.
both,
cleanse you."


-N.M.

darkwasthenight





"Life and death, energy and peace. If I stop today, it was still worth it. Even the terrible mistakes that I made and would have unmade if I could. The pains that have burned me and scarred my soul, it was worth it, for having been allowed to walk where I've walked, which was to hell on earth, heaven on earth, back again, into, under, far in between, through it, in it, and above."  - Gia

WE WANDER / WE GROAN

Real love, 
it finds you somewhere-

with your back to it.




The kind of thing to look at when you sit down to grieve.

I am disconnected from parts of me that are deep wells of sadness.

To connect to pain is a memory away. I do not reach for you because you destroy me for days.

Mending: how do we keep safe our memories? Especially the ones we must leave behind in order to survive.

Even if we love memory.

Even if we use it as a way to devotion.
Even when it’s not.

Even when we dragged it around like a block of light just to see if it lasted.


Even when it breaks. Even when we know it will break. Let’s be shocked,

after.



sometimes in suffering we find ourselves.