I like to nestle

between my thick ***** cats --


the divan cushions.

Lisa and I got our emails the same day.
She read hers first. She made a small
sighing sound, the faintest of protests.
Then broke the news, with a scowl,
“They’re moving classes online “temporarily.”

I don’t want to talk about Corona any more
- I want to scream about it. Maybe we’ll
graduate, in three years, without knowing
what most of our classmates look like -
​​antithetical to university “networking”.

I’m lucky, I know - I’m only inconvenienced.
I roam, safely, indoors, impatiently untouched by
adult, real world concerns, like jobs and money.
So I’ll keep my head up and smile like those
glamorous, happy girls in ****** commercials.

Squat down, knees to chin,

and your arms tight around them --


safe like angel's wings.

Your hands on me
They're so sweet and
You tread so lightly
Moving along my thighs
Rubbing patterns into my soft skin
At the apex I close my eyes
Bathing in the warmth of your touch
In that moment I can breathe
I'm with you and I'm happy
But I have memories like bad dreams
Showing up so unexpectedly
And suddenly
Your hands turn to his
It's no longer your body against me
Pleasure turned fear
Burning into me like electricity
My brain goes offline
It fills with music instead
Trying to cover up these demons
But my body cannot forget
All of my muscles are frozen in time
It's 2014 again
Why can't I feel your hands on mine?
Feel your arms wrapped around me?
My lips find yours
I want our spark back
I'm trying so hard
Just to come back
I want this
I want you
But my body doesn't know
It doesn't realize you are safety
That we stopped right away
Because you can see me
That you care if I'm there
And give me space to breathe
As this trauma leaves me bare
You stay with me
You tell me I'm ok
And that we don't have to do anything
I'm broken and I'm grateful
Terrified and wondering
And even though it takes awhile
For me to find myself again
When I'm ready you still kiss me
And it shows that you understand

I have a gun and

like to have it with me, but --


where can I put it?

sometimes i decide to be brave
but in doing so, i put on a set of armor that covers this delicate body
no one can hurt me this way
no sword can pierce my skin
no word can break my bones  
nothing at all will harm me

but . . .
what if . . .

one day i decided to be brave
and take off this metal illusion of safety
because there are times when bravery means being able to feel
even the pain
some days, it isn't holding yourself together, but shedding tears that takes the most courage
as i unfasten my breastplate and drop my shield
i think to myself
this is living:
not shielding yourself from feeling
this is healing
only by allowing yourself to break

It doesn't help at all.
I wish it did, but I'm
Just to stupid 2 listen.

Besides if you don't care
whether I'm safe, why
Should I listen when you say so?

If safe to you means alive, then
I could beat myself black and blue
and still be 'safe'

I could tear my ******* skin off
I could roll in flames
And dance through thorns

And still
Be
"Safe."

Everyone knows
from the daily news
the places and times

are wrong sometimes, suddenly
people are no longer alive and we
forget it again, so frail
are our feelings

and thoughts as well
under which we don't want
to suffer and be weighted down

Rather we keep up
that we are safe, twice a day
we see beside the screens

the good of our lives
and against the bad luck
that slips through
we arm ourselves with humor

Everyone knows
about being silent, alone
or together, then it is less bad

****** by 7
Circuitry sizzling now bless
My sight with fractals and
a misread message
A step withheld in my ongoing
Prosecution of the self resting
headless without a leg to
Stand up for myself when
I can't remember what I've
Dreamed this month, it's
Breaking across these mental
Walls, as far as the eye's can
Tell a story, and reveal as well as hide
From one's conjured enemies.
Shiver. These silver sided dice roll
Like the spies sent to hinder my
Will to save you. I will save you.
As I save myself. the last morsel
Of forged laurels.