Without close

I want you to say something

Say something

Say something 

That’s going to make it all better

I want you to write again

Text me again and tell me


Something that’s going to make it all better

I want you to say something

Say something that’s going to fix something that

I don’t know how to 

I tell you I want to talk

You tell me I’m not talking 

You’re talking and I don’t know what to say



If you could write me 

You’d write wrong 

Right before you 

Say something I’ve said 


How could you 

Could you know-how 

You could wait 

Wait till you can 


But then 

You’d be too early 


Early morning 

I see you sleeping 

Slowly breathing 

A smile slipped 

Across your face 


But who could talk

While tangled 


Into the void


 One night

 I dreamt of a void 

When touched, dark blue ripples 

ricocheted outward 

pulsating on my fingertips. 

Flat, alive, and just wide enough

For me to step through. 


Opaque ground 

Sprawled out 


A Blue forest. 

I stepped 

Around ocotillos 

Weaved through 

Joshua Trees 

And listened 

To the buzzing of bees.


Forest fades 

And buzzes turn into voices 

Singing of freedom 

From fear 

Their hope 

Echoing and elaborating 

In variations 

The cries of their loved ones


Sounds a monody. 


In the void 

I find myself 

In a battle royale with my thoughts 


When it would be best 

To emerge



My t-shirt is the train 

Dripping with cold sweat under a winter coat


My laptop is the train

Ticking, lifeless, from sticky fingers 


My scarf is the train

Saving the seat next to me from butt sweat 


My suitcase is the train 

Searching for closure in a jostled enclosure 


My hair is the train 

Musty against my face to keep me warm


The train, such a stain to bring me home

If you send an email to her

You will get there 

If you send an email to her 

To connect with him 

You will get there 

If you go to this workshop 

And talk to him 

Tell him about your work 

Ask a good question 

You will get there 

If you reach out to him 

After the session 

You will get there 

If you stay connected with them 

You will get there 

If you post it 

You will get there 

If you tell people about 

Your work 

You will get  there 

If you speak 

You will get there 

You will get there 

You will get there 

You will get 

You will get 

You will get 

You will

Evolving Emotions: The Fog

Presences are unannounced in the dark.

Even more so in the fog

A blur of beings rushes by

Without ever crossing my eye

Each step is a careful one

Each breath, hesitant

For I am subject to the misty blindfold


I embark.


In a transition

A surge of events passes me by

What I could do

I can’t.

What I wanted

I can’t have.

I don’t see them 

I didn’t see them

If only by my volition.


They move in my view for a moment

So fleeting

They depart 

Without thought

Without recognition

Without realizing

Helpless I am in the fog

For I am a proponent.


There is a strange relief

I am concealed

Shrouded in mysterious droplets

They cast a hold on me

Around my every curve 

I am hidden from the world

Away from the mind’s conception and belief.


Who I am

Whom I cherish

What I am capable of

What ineptitudes I lock away

The experiences I carry

The soul embedded within

A perfect bubble

A precious dam.


A thinning

A receding

A panic

A terror

A grief

A mourning

A spinning.


Fog withdraws

Visions clear

Fear resides

In the cavity once hidden

Now in full display

Pleading for a pause.


The whole world stares anew