Grab my hand.
Words thrown like an unlucky lifesaver.
You aren't.
Falling into mine.
The sand splitting into two,
there's no catching me.
I fall into three, four, five.
My birthday,
A big girl bed.
Excited, I scream.
Silently as his finger slid in,
like a rubber hammer on a smooth
glass surface.
A big girl.
Grab my hand.
I'm falling out of reach.
I see eyes,
looking. Looking.
Look at me.
I can fly.
The canyon grows fine.
A dime drips, off his fingers.
I'm warm.
Might be on fire.
Can't tell.
Liar, Liar.
Pants cover things no one can see.
Grab my hand,
the truth is falling.
Around my ankles,
soft and wrinkled, home.
Home.
Pink. Kitchen.
Blue. Patio.
Red. Blood on my thigh.
Fire. It feels like fire,
as the razor dips in.
Like a toe,
just testing.
Tickles lost their glamour.
Smaller than her knives,
Razors slide in, do the trick.
Pink. Kitchen.
Grab my hand.
Break my heart.
I'm falling with truth.
And all its sides.
Let me apologize,
truth was never easy to clarify.
Never could know,
was truth you?
Or me?
Cuz I'm just startin' to theorize.
Sometimes between the lies,
truth subsists on dreams.
In real life,
its me.
I'm no longer occupied,
galvanized without harmony.
Back beats, pounding out reality.
Drop kick.
I sucked at it.
Dropping came easier than kicking.
Maybe I should have kicked.
His breath warm.
I might be on fire.
Never can say.
I should have kicked.
Grab my hand,
Quiet.
It's this way.
Driving at five.
Windshield epitaphs
life like, like flies.
Blinded.
Should have kicked.
Where's the truth in the light?
One and same.
I dunno, it never came.
Gravity holding the war,
Truth or light,
Public paradigms.
We hide in lines,
Fraternize with the homeless,
We escape her eyes.
Truth in her face, light from behind.
Grab my hand.
I'm fallin' through the thin line.
But I lost up.
So, I might just be flyin'.