The problem with our demons
is they are often in disguise,
they are never far from us
and angle

angle is everything

They come at you from
your blind spot when you
were so comfortable and confident the
things had ceased to exist all together
…like they just up and flew away
hitched to some other wildflower
in the wind
but no,

B A M!

there they are
they did not go out
with the New Year
or our Wish Upon a Stars
our golden addictions
(as precious as gold)
our fantasies that
derail reality
obsessions
and
never-gonna-get-its
and poor-mes
past and present

so you fall
down down down
you go from your
pedestal of control

along the way some
handsome character
holding your hand
some glittering
promise of love
and connection

connection
connection
connection
sparks and
sparkles

it’s what we are
after, after all
whether acting
like devils or angels
we just want to be together,
held by others in our experience.

truthfully,
I am equal parts light and dark
I am the underside and the top
I am physically here while
simultaneously someplace else
altogether

I am gloriously beautiful
and devastatingly eroded
in all the wrong places
I try to hone in on my truth
but am a liar-in-the-making

when he pushes I pull
when I commit,
mouths to kiss suddenly
fall from the sky

I am a wannabe wife
and a runaway bride

So I stick to
what’s safe
and simple:

I pull my head
back into my shell
for reflection

I carve out
squares of time
for poetry and planning

I shower in
the dark

I purge

I dress in costume
when alone

I question the benefit
of Himalayan salt lamps
when they’re tucked into
corners cluttered and dusty

I reckon we all want to buy
a little peace sometimes,
but can’t

I travel life through
alleyways, basements, bus
stations and doorways
littered strewn
settled with
homeless
folk

I always have, always will
coalesce with the
underside
of life

but I post-it note happy quotations
on my mirror
I write my D R E A M S
in Sharpie bold
I worry the word
is too vague, too loose
so I adopt vim vitae instead,
Latin for life force

I pep in my step
I boogie in my woogie
every time I fall I bounce
a little higher baby

I stick to what’s safe
and simple:
intuition-following
kindness over coolness
coffee, the single
addiction I can life with

I dance with all my lovers
in the dancehall of my mind
I’ve got my eye on the prize
even if I don’t get it

I question my own authority,
let loose into creation
I take the dirt of my experiences,
spit and make clay of it
I shape of my experiences a bowl
to contain them all

I shrine it and stow it away
I will never forget certain
moments of certain days
I watch my life as if on stage,
a wall-leaning observer,
a sometimes orchestrator,
a container of both chaos and order:
this body, solid
this mind, wandering
this spirit, pulsing
I observe the play of
night and day
I close my
eyes and
I pray