How Distance is Not Linear

I do not know how to love the distance
have no idea what to do to encapsulate the hours
minutes echo themselves off the walls
does not seem possible that time is going forward
seems as if I have been waiting for a long as I can remember
waiting for the door to open

I need your skin
as much as your heart
and right now I am feeling a little lost without it
I attempt to keep myself busy
but without whiskey to drive the dance
it is harder to convince myself to leave the house
this shell is easier to navigate without the glances
and stares
I don't want anyone to know that I am currently
feeling hollow
I know my place is not inside of you
but my heart has already taken refuge

 so I wait
for time to pass
for the tears to dry from their riverbed
so maybe I can run faster down the calendar
I cannot let my hands sit idle
my brain does laps

I will probably never tell you how hard time time has been
how I shredded the sheets in my sleep
woke up with shadows draped across my mouth
most mornings I wake with your name on my lips
but without you there to receive it,
I swallow, hoping that by ingesting the word
I will feel a little less empty

It is not that I won't survive
 or that I think
that after this, things will be perfect
it is simply that I am spent
my palms out stretched
searching every room for something solid

I have to continue to wait
patience has never been my virtue
so I apologize my love
for the vacancy in my throat
that I need you to fill

Then again, I might never actually
tell you how I felt
during the time when I waited

December

I did not know that when the sky was vast 

my longing would subside for as long as the sun was high
as soon as darkness blessed it's presence upon the horizon
along with night would come the mourning of loss
of that life left behind

Though much of nothing besides
what resided in frames held the weight of meaning
I found it is possible to love a skeleton
as I watched the flesh melt away
flickering candle incense
wine soaked confessions
became the makings of fairy tale endings
the bitterness of cold embraces turned to flame
in the twilight

Once the moon took her residence
the sky shrugged on her violet crown
my eyes flicked open to reveal the present
ashes gently rained from my bedroom ceiling
cleansing right now from already has been
clarity came in a familiar form

I often find I am looking beyond
much past my horizons
what I most need has been waiting for me
most patiently
with the visions of the past laying in the dust at my feet
lessons made manifest

I will have to learn to love the distance
I will fall asleep embraced by and for the wind
at times risking drowning
in a river of saltwater
will have to find salvation in convictions
I will have to climb into the very recesses of my own being

The ghosts that occupy this space
are far from benevolant
entering my every waking moment
burying my face in the bottle
no longer dims their calling

Fear has been a constant companion
driven me into the arms of monsters
sometimes without me even knowing
this doubt that has cremated so many others
I know this time it will give us armor
in which to weather this battle

Without mirroring the demons
that threaten to swallow this fragile frame
it will be impossible to root a home
this time I will not chose the poison

I have done the work to strengthen my hands
and now they are parachutes
that will carry us gently
creating shelter against the wind if needed
my heart, my blood

The definition of lost has changed
and I am no longer tangled up in it

Wishing

You could write the words
I would say
that would make the steel in hands,
relax
melt away
but as much as you would love
to hear those words
  wrote to be encased in lingering
I am not to be your muse
if allowed, mouths would house
those words
  empty upon arrival
  graced only with breath filled whispers
wishing that was enough
of enough
of enough
for those words to land softly
eggshell delicate
in open palms

Underneath

There is a blank space

where you seem to hide

in between window panes

when the light fades

I can hold nothing but your shadow

You are peeking from beneath the fridge

an eerie glow that haunts

the floor boards 

where you never even stood

Conviction has always eluded me

somehow I teeter on the edge 

of decisions more so now

then when the cliff edge was closer

I would love nothing more 

than to wrap myself up in you

get trafficked in your smile lines

yet those lines exist not for me

so I will settle for watch on the stairs

For You

I wish I knew how to write in a language you would understand
but I am beginning to realize
that language means nothing without action
to give it strength
you know the words to say in the moment to make me believe
that when times are rough
you will be my pillar, my rocking horse
that familiar and comforting peace
yet as soon as the door closes
the cold drifts beneath
with it goes my conviction that you will stay
you stray from me in minutes clocked
I will continue to love you as I have him
yet red years will not make you any closer to me
9125 days has only made me miss him more
and less
1825 days has only made wishing for you more bitter 
There is space within my shoulder blades that crave
the comfort of the warmth of hands holding a woven love
of lost tears, photographic smiles that were never taken,
letters in birthday cards never sent
folded up dollar bills that meant to say "I love you"
but were made silent by unstamped envelops
buried under forget-me-nots
you are so similar in your inability to commit
to this truth you helped cultivate
I will forever want you into the curve of my neck
and into my cages

No love lost

You are right
I have thinned out
my collarbones write themselves on my pillowcase
my fucks have taken shelter in my marrow
removing their bulk from my hips
and this is something I am ok with
I feel safer in less of me
than I ever did in more of you
so I will take this restructuring
it is better than attempting to carve myself out
of shadow each morning in the bathroom
that mirror that taunts my silhouette
plays trickster games on my eyes
I am still trying to put away the pool of bluing
that wants to make bruising tracks on my face
With each sunrise it gets easier
hate and love reside on different sides of the coin
that blister brands my hands
makes it nearly impossible to be kind
to my shoulder blades

I wish I knew how to weave tapestries
that showed themselves clearly to your eyes
but I will have to settle for
shadows in mirrors and on pillowcases

whiskey stained nights
strengthen my marrow
I will continue to whisper
moonlight intimacy into the corners of your smile lines

I may find the conviction that will lead me
out of the heaviness
or I may lay down, tiled blinking
lulled percariously peaceful
by your familarity
either way, at least my knowing
tells me this has so much more to do with me
than with you

I am not bullet proof
metal shield girl
but my backbone is steel crafted
my wrists hold lines that secure
what once wanted to float away

my story slowly unravels
from blank black and white
each turned away face 
helps me understand my own spacing

Holding Out

If you knew the future,
would you live the same?

I have seen glimpses of what is to come

all fire, intimate hands,
unsent messages

I am hiding under the bed waiting for the past
to sleep
hoping letters of love finish smoldering
trying not to smother
there is never any knowing
if the aching will subside
be subdued
time is not a magic wand of healing
no matter how many coins
are thrown into the youth fountain
the spark will always show in silver
there is no deciding in which road
the heart will travel
even if the road is colored with familiar
sometimes there is no such thing as forgetting
that face will become a ghost of haunting
dreams are made of betrayal
and sometimes so is your own body
bones reform into questions marks
will not show conformity
the bottom of the bottle
still does not hold the answers
yet it will continue to be a siren
open veins will lead to the redding
and inside your own encasing
is still where you are the safest
it is truth that some things never change
though the outside will be reborn
over and over
with no understanding of why
inside is more frozen
and those hands will be hot enough
to burn

Still Clinging

We all need to be seen for more than
 skin and bones and
a crooked smile
more than scar tissue
more than the past that continues to cling
wafting like an unwelcoming
need to be seen down to the marrow
the softest bits of us
yearning to be held in hands
that do not tremble
it can be hard to realize
that you too are stardust
wings unfolded
hard to get past the choked throated
apologies that hang like an empty clothes lines
equally menacing in their valuelessness
know that questioning does not always attempt
to manipulate, its just that the answers
reenforce the threading
after bearing walls so thick

all that is delicate is almost touchless
the hard still warm in its familiar

Anatomy

You are not made up of scar tissue

you are a pulsing pumping heart

the veins of your bluing are brighter

than your transparency

I love your velocity

you are conviction

ride that wave you splashed

we are gratefully soaked to the bones

would be sun bleached, flaking dust

if that was your creation

standing in confession is more sacred

than the entirety of saints

whispering of your guilt

nothing could bring a fault line

in the foundation of this trusting

we are suspension bridge bounded

bonded

gilded children of the broken

our hands are not tongue tied

let that language be 

the string that unsmothers

our mouths

Book

It will be a while before
I am able to forget to take the jar of tears
from the bookshelf
placing it in my chest each morning
my habit, has become my ritual
there is absolute comfort in knowing
this bit of familiarity
there is nothing wrong with craving
release from the cage of conformity
most see this as a Destruction
yet I know this as Healing
I will take the bundle of apologies
bury it deep beneath
the bookshelf in my living room
give it back to the shadows
light has graced me with the insight
of what serves
and I'll keep the salty jar
its home is calling

Wild

Our hearts are wild things
that why are ribs are cages
grief can shake the organ until it
comes out through eyes in silent, tear-less sobs
racks a body with gentle violence
a bird that has lost its song
some can only stand wide open
door with a vacant
 lock
cannot be shut against the incoming
needs to be filled to overflowing
winds carry desired arms in rigid embraces
that aren't quite enough of enough
longs to know when it will carry those with strength
to hold a heart with too much vibration
lines are beginning to show in bruised rose shadows
 choking
dancing is the only valid expression
but it comes only on backs
laid to the jagged ground
hands permanently stretched to the
 heavens
mouths sticky shut
can let out only in smoke
Gardner, you know who you are
don't allow flowers that bloom in gallant moon soaked air
dissipate much too quickly
deserting in one last
 confession
open your wrists if that is the only
road left to the bluing
that maps to your cup
that is trembling
 thirsty