Monster-Man

break the broken girl

she's begging

lost and little

already gone

wishing she was alice so she could disappear down a rabbit hole

she's late she's late she's late

You're too late

to save so break

the late little girl sits

staring from her corner

up at the Monster from over her bed

she calls him Daddy

and cries

each new Monster Master Sir

is Daddy

what's new?

run alice run or you

will meet a Monster anew

Fault

Scene: Boy is alone, sleeping. Suddenly he feels a draft, and wakes up, sitting up in bed. There is a girl sitting on the edge of his bed.

Girl: This time, it was your fault.

Boy: I’m sorry?

Girl: This time it was your fault.

Boy: What was my fault?

Girl: Usually it’s mine, but this time it was yours.

Boy: Who are you, why are you here?

Girl: Those would have been the right questions, but it’s too late now. Your fault.

Boy: Are you on drugs?

Girl: I was one of the times when it was my fault. This time, it was a missed chance.

Boy: I don’t understand.

Girl: Next time, maybe it will work out.

Boy: Next time, what will work out? What’s my fault?

Girl: I’m sure you know.

Boy: I don’t even know who you are.

Girl: And therein lies the problem.

Boy: What are you even saying?

Girl: That it’s your fault. Not mine.

Boy: Yeah, got that. What do you mean?

Girl: I can’t break it down much more. This time-

Boy: It’s my fault. But what are you talking about?

Girl: A missed opportunity. It only comes once in a lifetime, you know.

Boy: Right, well, I’m sorry.

Girl: You aren’t.

Boy: Well, no, probably because you’re crazy, and you broke into my room, and I have no clue what you’re talking about.

Girl: I just wanted to tell you, that this time, it was you who was wrong. It’s usually my fault, but this time it’s yours. 
 Boy: What did I do?

Girl: You waited too long.

Boy: I don’t get it. What did I wait too long for?

Girl: I’m gone now. There’s no second chances this time.

Boy: And I suppose that your being gone is my fault?

Girl: No. You not acting when you were supposed to was your fault. Me being gone is just life acting like life.

Boy: I don’t understand.

Girl: You think too much. You always have.

Boy: Oh yeah, and how do you know this? I don’t even know you.

Girl: We’ve known each other lifetimes.
Boy: What does that even mean?

Girl: Stop deflecting. You know I’m right.

Boy: Right about it being my fault?

Girl: No.

Boy: Right about what?

Girl: You always think too much.

Boy: Fine. Whatever. I guess that means it’s always my fault then.

Girl: No, most times it’s mine.

Boy: And those are the times you think too much?

Girl: No, those are the times I think too little.

Boy: I still don’t understand.

Girl: It’s ok, I can wait.

Boy: I thought you said there were no second chances.

Girl: There aren’t any second chances right now.

Boy: So what are you going to wait for.

Girl: The next time.

Boy: I don’t understand.

Girl: It’s ok, you don’t have to yet. I just wanted to let you know, that this time it was your fault.

Boy: What is my fault?

He turns to look, and the girl is gone. He shakes his head, lays back down, and falls asleep.

The Widow

A mourning young widow sits alone

Ignoring all calls to her phone

She can’t confide

Since her husband died

And she won’t throw the jackals a bone

Her husband had been young, sweet, and rich

Whose ex-wife was a conniving bitch

She held on for years

With wine and fake tears

Then she killed him and dumped him in a ditch

At least the orange jumpsuit made her fat

But the widow wanted her alone with a bat

The ex didn’t care

When the widow screamed “Beware!”

And called her a nasty old rat

The widow is downing some whiskey

In college, it made her feel frisky

Now she just cried

Wished she could hide

She had no idea what to do with his key

The doctors had prescribed her some pills

And said “If you take too many it kills”

But he had her heart

And a head start

So she downed the whole bottle with chills

The Truth

I dream empty dreams

And

Speak empty words

Each thing I

Say is supposed to be

The truth

But

I’m only scratching

At a surface of

Some intangible

Space. I talk and talk

And talk

Each word burning

From my throat. I’m lost

In this wild sea and

Reach for some

Way I can latch onto that

Safe and sure way

But each

Stroke drags me

Deeper to the

Bottom. I’m stuck

Swallowing

The bitter salt. Hoping

For death with no real strength

Everything I’ve ever said

Sounds like the words

Of  a bigger better man

Is this what it means

To belong

To some higher consciousness?

I’m stuck

Scratching

At the posts hoping

For some flash of

Brilliancy beauty truth

Instead I’ve found

Piles of useless shit

Stuck to my heels

Some transcendental

Soul

Has seen and scoffed

At my pitiful attempts

To write some peace into

My life

Streaks

She stands at her window

Staring

At the streets outside

The activity

Hustling, Bustling

They're laughing, playing

Running

She's staring

The streaks on the glass

Are barely noticeable

To the passersby

With their busy lives

But each streak strikes

And she fervently strides

To remove

To watch outside

And dream and wish

But not until 

She can stare without care

They're laughing

She's staring, still caring

Each day is the same

The dust collects

Still she stares

They play

"One day," she says,

"I'll join and play too."

But each time she moves

To put down her rag

She looks and stares

A new streak appears

So

She stands at her window

Staring

At the streets outside

The activity

Hustling, Bustling

The Broken Mirror

It was an accident, I
Swear.
I didn't mean to smash.
But my stare
Scared me. My apologies
Can move mountains but not
You.
Is your humanity aroused?
When you see the drips from my
Clenched fist on your
Floor?
Stop staring, I swear
The mess was never there.
I think I did wish
It was your face.
I wanted the satisfying
Crunch.
Does that make me bad?
You don't hear sorries
So I won't say.
Please stop- I promise
It won't happen again.
Have I broken your
Belief? Your faith?
I guess I have kept
Intact your regret
Of me. I wish
If i can't- I mean-
I mean- If I can't
Break you- That you would
Break something besides me
So that I wouldn't be
Scared by your- by my
Stare.

Untitled Poem.

It’s unsettling,

How you’ve left off haunting my dreams

To visit me in waking hours, too.

How am I supposed to have any

Relief?

You’ve made me frozen,

Dumb but not the mercy

Of numbness. I can feel your nails

Dig and burrow in my skin.

How can I continue to explain

The bruises upon my waking and

The tears on my face

And the screams half stopped in my throat?

People already think

I’m crazy.

You’re just

A dream.

Why can’t I wake up?

If my death is what it takes,

I swear I’m almost there

If that’s your

Intent, then please,

Continue.