Alone (24, 8am)

Solitude, my home
It used to frighten me, now,
I love alone and silence
I collect myself
No witness to my madness

 

24!! 8am

Goodbye (acrostic) (22, 6am)

Guessing people’s intentions, I have
Objections. I guess I am
Oblivious, but it still hurts. Another
Day, another unfriending, I count my
Blessings. I see all the pictures of
Yesterday, wondering why every friend
Ends with goodbye – Ends at all.

Cold pizza (21, 5am)

Eating cold pizza
At three-in-the-morning
Pacing the kitchen,
longing for something
to write about that isn’t food

It has been ten years since
I first nearly disappeared,
And I did it twice for good measure.

It has been ten years
since I was a size two Houdini,
A fat girl hiding in the thin apron
in an empty kitchen
Irrationally afraid
Of numbers

The last of that small person
Went out in some trash bags
The attic is free of different versions of me
That don’t fit when I count all my numbers.

Divorce (20, 4am)

Another phone call,
to order the divorces
I arrange twenty on a plate
into their portions
and I garnish them with fees.

While they mourn,
It’s just another expensive conclusion
it’s part of the happy ending,
if you see that it’s dessert.

Hypersomnia (19, 3am)

So many poets

Struggle to sleep

The insomniac

Alcoholics

And their lovers,

But I live in the blankets

I only wake to organize

The day for the others

And then I fold myself back

To sleep

Truce (18, 2am)

We must divide the world between us,
I’ll keep this town and the next one over,
but you can have the rest of them.

I’ll take the birds and dogs,
You can have the felines,
I’ll take board games, the uno cards,
and all of the poets.

You can have beaches and vehicles,
I want the internet, and a backpack,
I want some cereal and bowls

but you can take the forks.

We will have to divide our friends
in half, if they let us,
give me one half that listens
and a quarter that loves.

You can keep Walmart,
I guess I’ll take Amazon,
I want the bank
but you can have the hospital.

You can have the tattoo artists and
the bars,
I’ll take Amanda Palmer.
I’ll take musicals and
Chinese, but you can have the seafood.

The schools are mine.
So are the lawyers,
but you can have at least one judge,
all the rivers and
the movie theater.

Once I’m done cutting
My life into a fraction to give myself a break,
I hope you know,
At last you must – “get off my side of the state”.

 

Based on a breakup and “Truce” by the Dresden Dolls.

solstice (17, 1am, prompt 13)

small women disguised as flowers
dancing like daisies, swaying in the hush
moonbeams for halos,
shaking seeds inside of coffee cans
to make maracas.

the frenzy makes quite a noise
women tapping on the concrete
to free the spring into its
summer folds,
placing the other seasons on a shelf
and making midnight
a few minutes longer
if only to hear the howls.

compact (16, 12am)

I said I wouldn’t write another
lazy haiku this year,
too compact
barely a poem.

But I think that about so many people,
who don’t spill enough.

Too compact.
Barely a poem.

Smaller (15, 11pm)

I have asked to be smaller
for two whole decades
On every star,
Every birthday candle
And every unfortunate 11:11 clock

I wish I was microscopic
I wish I could fit into a little tray
And fit on a pinhead

I wish I was better science.

 

(I’d say this is unfinished)

1 2 3 12