Confession From Heaven

Confession from Heaven

as you can see
we have potential

although hearts burst out in tears,
locked behind bars, in chains,
against a will of their own,

we carry every blink used
to wipe away the pain,
we stand guard when the Earth
shakes underneath feet full of breath

breathe easy
we have potential
we have not lost the sunlight
of yesterday,
or the smell of a growing world

childhood kisses are fresh on our
souls

we have not passed
we are not the past

we are your honest future
waiting
for our bound hearts
to hold each other
once again.

ZombieBleach.

Rid these monsters of reflection.
Mirrors are vomiting
bleach blonde
bitches.

Pretty, vapid
chlorine
burns evidence of authenticity.

Keep their unsightly roots away!
I have grown my garden of
validity
over years of exiguous soil. Chemicals
will kill me.

Lost? Indeed! On every climate,
heads over porcelain, hoping
to
heave in that enamel gloss,
they export
beauty with unique finger tips;

to be a reflection
of another one,
somewhere!

For My Friend Who Looks For Raccoon Feces On Her Back Porch

We do not have friendship,
or handshake,
or hug,

or your banal Tupperware parties.

You do not pout your lips in
sympathy when thoughts
of
my china doll bite your cheeks.

We do not plan swing-slide
adventures
for little skinny
blonde boys
and girls.

I do not smile and nod
as silly intoxication drags
misery out of your voice anymore.

But, you are my friend, soberly watching
for Raccoon feces, while your
husband throws the TV at you.

Once, I watched with clean eyes, while his dirty
ones stabbed you
with a sharp
pint.

Your voice never drags that up when
you are sober,

you only speak about the Raccoon’s.