repeated dream:

you and i push off in a little boat, laughing

breaking the filmy layer of ice

using our oars to guide us around the frozen chunks.

Every time, we begin to sink

the boat tilts, spilling us

I crash into the waters, which break

and I fall into the river of home.

It is warm, and my eyes open

emerging from the gloomy depths,

weathering crocodiles,

I gasp onto shore,

a rocky bank breaking the rapids.

You are gone, and I know where to go from here.

I tear my clothes from my skin and fly into the waves, carried

on a current I understand.


bad things just keep happening

but why do we have to care?

 better off undead

¬†easy to pretend nothing’s going on,

stagger, groan, mumble,



arms grasping

eyes dulled, flimsy films holding back thought

occasionally a stammered nothing falling off the tongue

this zombie is just tired of being dead.

(sometimes I wonder how many times I’ve offended & hurt people

and not known it.)