When Monday Commandeers Sunday

Another Sunday spent at home

wondering how and when and why

I came to be this much alone

And so afraid that I won't die

Another sunday no one's home except they are

And I'm not here

And never was and always am

and never want to see next year

Another weekend spent in tears

that never flow or even try

A Sunday, Monday commandeers

only to crash before they fly

I'm back on board to see that no one's come this far

to find only my words are here

but not my name and not my grace

and not my will to see next year

'And' not 'Or' and 'Or' not 'But'

and 'Still' and 'So' are better yet

SO I'm STILL living, OR I'm just breathing

AND I'll STILL be here in the evening

BUT I still wish I was on Friday

better yet than yesterday

Will you still ask me about my day

But leave my words to rust away

Autarkical Tombs

I feel kind of sad

otherwise I am fine

and I’ll lie on the floor

for indefinite time

Until I feel the cold from the door in the hall

Until I can deny you were with me at all

I feel like a ghost

when you’re not in the room

All sealed up inside

autarkical tombs


You don’t make much sense

But I take what I get

I’ve since built my fence

and it’s not broken yet

Until you can prove that you meant what you said

Until I can force the thoughts out of my head

Unless I can make me less different from you

Unless you can change so you’re less different too

but, your eyes are too deep

And your words are too shallow

Your mind is unreadable

damned to the gallows

You don’t make much sense

And I’m scary and damaged

But you don’t scare me

So I have the advantage

I feel what I feel

Spoken loud, or unmentioned

I speak all the time

you just don’t pay attention