i do not walk
i float,
half a whisper behind the world.
people speak in whole voices
but mine is paper thin
its faded away

mirrors don’t lie,
they truth
that i am too much of something
and not enough of anything.

i learned early
to shrink myself
tighten the laughter,
bite the words,
become the apology
before anyone asks for it.

i wear invisibility like cologne,
subtle,
elusive,
always there.
it smells like
"you’re not good enough"
and
"why would they care?"

some days i’m a ghost
calling my own name,
pressing against the glass of who i should be,
watching him live
without me.

put your head on my shoulders
i swear i'll carry you forever
i'll move boulders
its my endeavor

i love you
my heart aches
every day we're apart
come back to me
before my heart breaks

doing well
and then i fell
****-
nicotine doesn't help

I was just a misspelled word
you so easily erased
from the notebook of your life.

                  
Now,
how do I ever erase you —
the most beautiful poem of my heart?

big rat, bigger cat
who eats
who runs

who makes the rules

big rat, bigger cat.

the rat has sharp teeth,
sits on a throne of broken bones,
stares through eyes of shattered glass,
no future
no past.

who s first,
who s last,

the rat's heart
loosely wrapped
barbed wire

who s first
who s fast

big rat, bigger cat

but King Rat has dreams,
wants a kingdom

an alley chat

the cat asks, meow?

snakes in the garden of eden?
wolves in suits?
crows on the telephone wire?

every throne
every king
a reckoning

alley chat, alley cat,
the cat gives, a wink.

deep and wide,
the cat smiles the gate,

"trust me."