when
there will
be
no more

this pen
from a florida
steakhouse
writes it’s last
word
no ink left
anyway
comes down to
blood

sold for parts
a ring finger
a heart
a few kidneys
some blood
hair
and chakra numbers
2 and 6

waited ten years
so
what’s a
couple
more months
without
your notebooks
and laughter

how do i write
about
fucking you

pastels
became oil then
acrylic
became a button
became a color
still choose
lines
light producing shadows
sees everything red
firetrucks
in the driveway
you were gone
when i got home
then stopped
suddenly
then started
all in one
motion
landing
on your outstretched
finger
to rest

again
just like
yesterday

kill me
i
might like or need that
love
is a strange
creator

how it all ended

with a laugh
remembering
not to cry

still
i want to

got sucked in

just another day
back seat driving
2 cars over

unlike yesterday
when
you did not hear voices
god or anybody’s

you
thought i would
starve
thought i would
flourish
thought
the sky is always
blue

remains hidden
where the water
collides
where the birds
graduate
where the trees
become
tree houses

not for sale

just
a girl
in
a closet
trying
to write a
poem

“i
don’t want to
leave you
i
have to go”

remind me will
you
to
take
the important
stuff

and
what did you
expect
the wrong folks
had
all the money and
their right folks
had
a few guns

buy and sell

will be
sad
then
be happy

then once again

as the apple
falls
the big birds
arrive

turtle love
the kind you
buy
at
the pet store
or
super
market