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. 


I touch the sky when my knees hit the ground



You traded heaven to have me again.


water on your hands and on your face.

writing from an honest place seems
simple 
until its not.


I need you/I don't need you



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.



trauma



i think its a lot like being a new vampire-
you are stuck at the place that initially wounded you. 





baby's first weep.

the first year i fell in love was real missing puzzle piece vibes.
the same kinda feeling you get when you hear your favorite song for the very first time:
the chorus is what you've been singing a lifetime without music
its just an understanding
it resonates deep within you
your whole body absorbing  

The first time I fell in love and the first time my heart was ripped out of my chest without any warning both have their own melody.
Falling in love
The Start & The Finish 
never produces your best work.
Something about contentment
your audience loses interest.

Heartbreak produces the best work of your life
Because when he called the whole thing off and you wept for 8 days straight because he doesn't love you at all. 
You throw up because rejection can feel like a poison
Really when I think about it no one was created to store rejection in their bodies…it has no place in the brain or veins or DNA. 
You pause life because you're in too much pain to move.
You love someone who does not love you back and one night you weep harder than you did the day you came into this world.

You weep for the hearts you've led on…then lost. 

you can write about this
foreign objects and blood forever.

Flashback to the Hudson river 
when you spoke without a hint of life in your voice. 
You weren't a person in this moment. 
You were a forest fire
burning history books and homes with memories and pictures and promises inside.

You were a gas leak burning down that apartment on the upper east,29th and 9th,the l.e.s
Sleepwalking through times square 
fazed and dazed forever
slurry speech 
5 am Tribeca.

And all the gardens of hope that once bloomed around
and within you-
are ashes and dust.

Music playing in the taxi
you kick the cabby's seat
(both feet)
 because this song triggers you into mania
it's:
the melody you wrote in your deepest sea of sadness
so if you wanted to be happy
you couldn't
and if you could change everything you ever did on this island...

you wouldn't.


 In a desert land he found him, in a barren and howling waste. 
He shielded him and cared for him; he guarded him as the apple of his eye. Deuteronomy 32:10




Law within lawlessness is chaos forever

Right before you break there is a rattling inside your chest.
Lighting tremors
Violent roars 
lashing waves 
beating the shore
Pounding you:
The way those mutants on Canal street take out there sadness: new found freedom,oat seed sowing ,rage, lust,neglecting health,Visiting retirement homes to force the elderly to listen to your story and wear the white gown. I can't make a fist when I see the faces of college fresh meat students violently embracing there first spring break 
Littering Screaming.Anxiety,sprinting, using
in the east/
how middle American tornados leave us. They take you up and set you down 
dizzy and ask you to dance.

Never safe

It starts off like a slow burn.
Creeping 
Feeding 
Breeding on your nerves.
 And the darkness is holding sleep & the healing hostage 
for you to negotiate with
softly 
all through the night.

darkness

in the night my prayer goes before thee
 but you are the God who saves.

like fire and water,wind and sea.


















We Share The Sadness.

One hand on the trigger of a telephone
Wondering when the call comes
Where you say it's alright
You got your heart right

Maybe I'll sleep inside my coat
Wait on the porch 'til you come back home
Oh, right
I can't find a flight

We share the sadness
Split screen sadness

"All you need is love" is a lie 'cause
We had enough but we still said goodbye
Now we're tired, battered fighters

And it stings when it's nobody's fault
'Cause there's nothing to blame at the drop of your name
It's only the air you took and the breath you left

Maybe I'll sleep inside my coat
Wait on the porch 'til you come back home
Oh, right
I can't find a flight
So I'll check the weather wherever you are
'Cause I wanna know if you can see the stars tonight

It might be my only right

We share the sadness
Split screen sadness

I called because I just
Need to feel you on the line
Don't hang up this time
And I know it was me who called it over but
I still wish you'd fought me 'til your dying day
Don't let me get away

'Cause I can't wait to figure out what's wrong with me
So I can say this is the way that I used to be
There's no substitute for time
Or for the sadness

____

Dear disappeared bodies and transitions, dear edge of a good paragraph.Before the wreck, we misunderstood revision.

YOUR WORDS KILLED. HIS WORDS HEALED.

JUNE 21/JUNE 22.2013

there is no training camp
for love like romances
for heart quakes and heart aches
read my face 
tell me this is not a face
that did long for you.
that did wait for you.
interviewing me on:
'the shame of my youth '
'the weight of my sin'
i was honest and you were
just adding up my mistakes.
the truth is
 i have ached
for the wrong ones
then the right
and whose to say you?…or you?! ….or YOU ever loved me?
the point is
i meant all those kind words i said to you
every word and every look
and i wouldn't take them back
even now
or in 30 years
even when our memories of one another
are old and past due
even when our faces have changed
and we both are grey
when i think of you
i think of pain
and that's alright
i wish you well
I cross my heart that when i said you were wonderful
you were.

THIS BRAND NEW ROMANCE 
was only just a bloom when you left me
to bury it alone-
sobbing
states away you are 
smiling
hearing my name and drawing a blank.
The irony of you is this:
the seed you planted in my 
secret garden heart
you aborted
you ripped it out
heart beat
tiny feet
black bagged it fast
the only witness was a sewer rat
back alley 
the monday morning lottery
the trash man's biggest fear 
you left the unborn
the premature seed
of ours
alone
dead along with
front pages of newspapers stained by
bloody babies and south american rabies
the headlines that day said there was a 60% chance of rain
and lindsay lohan was doing better in rehab turns out she's okay she's not really insane.
ONE WEEK LATER
proud and justified
picket sign and textbook lines
casting stones left and right
look at you
with a bloody left hand 
holding that damn picket sign
and with your right hand
clutching your grandfathers bible
the one you use to store your knives
now I've made myself sick
thinking you are doing so much right
you are no better than pro choice speakers
wife beaters,homosexual leaders
LOOK AT MY LEGS
LOOK AT MY HANDS 
MY STOMACH
MY FACE
i am rotting
from the remains of something you
planted. it could have been beautiful
it would have been fruitful.

you were once wonderful 
you are now just an ache
a memory so strong
i can't sleep
i just bleed
and i can't sleep
because i am still in pain
you were once wonderful.

day
vs.
night

jekyll and hyde

i read your letter a week later
i forgive you for being a killer
for being cruel
and yes i was kind
but i am not a fool
your letter was robotic
and i hope you never make another 
loving heart break the way you broke mine
that second time.

please forget me and burn this letter
i just needed to say it on paper.

today is my birthday and i wished for the phone to ring.

because the difference between us is:
you are blinded by my flaws
so you refuse to love me
and i can see you completely
but chose to love you
the way Christ loved us

for whatever it's worth
 today is my birthday- and i wished for you

to be well.

the fear of it all

“I thought: please don’t grow
familiar. I think I said it out loud:
Please don’t let me love you
that horrible way.
The situation is grave:
the way we lean over each other, the way years
later we emerge: hunchbacked, hooded,
with full grown tender things called souls.”

restore

Crying in your sleep
on repeat.


tell me when you hear my heart stop

and you-
you are just silent.



xo


thank you for leaving.

It's a shame you don't know what you're running from

Would your bones have to break and your lights turn off
Would it take the end of time to hear your heart's false start

You know this is your biggest mistake

What a waste, what a waste, what a waste
And of all the things you never explained
When you know this is your biggest mistake



Perfect Love.

1 John 4:18



 18 There is no fear in love [dread does not exist], but full-grown (complete, perfect) love turns fear out of doors and expels every trace of terror! For fear brings with it the thought of punishment, and so he who is afraid has not reached the full maturity of love is not yet grown into love’s complete perfection.