finding the trail

drugs are great
they open the eyes
i chew down on mushrooms so hard
i feel the liquid freshness roll down my tongue
piercing the center of the stem

i time myself
to know from what point i will slip to a
better view
I am marching, searching for the trail
the minutes are easy to count
at first
but nothing happens

Until i forget time,
and place, and me and I am
Pleasantly suprised
I live in this world I just don't
take much away from it until
I'm gone

I'm a little girl, again
and I won't come down the mountain to grow up,
like that.
so let the sky and the sea and the tide as their progeny
claim me as lost and I
will be found
whole and alive for the first time.

a wannabe

What do you do
when
you’ve met all the smokers
all the jokers,
all the wanna be cokers?
when
the new hot scene
is already cold and old?

Who do you turn to
when
the city beats you back,
beats you down
when you thought you were the one
with all the control
in the palm of your hand?
when
you miss feeling
larger than life during
those small victories,
that may, in the end,
be nothing?

Where do you go
when
you see that the rain cloud just gets darker and darker
above your head
while watching the soundless lightening storm
above the night sky line just exhausts you?
when
the glamorous dirt under your sink,
the dirt under your fingernails,
is the only sign left
that you once dug for your dreams?

What are you supposed to think
when
over and over again
you feel like crawling under anything
anything at all,
as long as it’s under and deep and far,
away
from where you are now.
when
you’ve been playing a part for so long,
so when the smoke finally lifts from the crowded dive,
so when the city street noise takes a minute to breath,
so when the need to have it all
dies down for just one brief moment,
and you finally, finally, finally
take a look in the mirror
you can hardly remember
when was the last time
you
played
you?

I know,
because sometimes
I think.
I think,
I know that
You wanna be loved.
Loved. And.
You wanna be.
And that’s it.

mismanagementspellingbee

To stay in the game I cover my mouth
to stay in the game I pretend to follow the rules
I strategize, compromise
Feign apathy when appropriate.
I can be this instrument, this well trained tool
I have been trained, bribed in small meek steps
Well,
when it comes to when they ask me
'What would you do if it was your child?'
like my advice is best because it's there,
I'd say, "You shouldn't have to ask if
you cared,"
But I don't I tell them this, I tell the good things
and they tell me lies and they only take him for a night a week
I feign apathy and they feign family
when they fill his head with lies
of vacations they will take him on
next time, and if they asked me what I would do I would
say I wouldn't need to try to act like
he is my son.
I would not hide him from the rest of my life like he is
some dirty affair
There are children hidden in pockets of buildings, in special rooms in schools
The lucky ones find an acceptable combination of medicines and rush to join the flock, march on.