Blue vs. Orange

I went to an estate sale.

A woman was selling a baby blue guitar.

“It’s yours — I’m moving to Aruba.”

And off I went with baby blue in hand.

As Blue as an Aries,

was the name of the band.

There was a boy in navy blue swim trunks playing in a South Jersey blue hole.

I blushed at the site of him — pink.

I put down my guitar and started to paint my hair shades of blue.

Streaky and soft,

like watercolor ink.

I found a man in orange,

offering me warm bearded kisses.

I didn’t want them but I was cold.

“This could be a good move for me,” I thought.

I went to the bathroom to wash the paint out,

but the whole room was blue.



I missed the night.IMG_3698

I smoked passion flower,

left a water bottle open in my bag,

slept with lipstick and glitter

for 12 hours and it’s still not enough.

You were in my dream–

at least a part of you was.

My childhood fish friend decided to move in with me.

It’s always dark now,

in every dream,

Blue, Black, Grey silvers of light

form the non-existing moon bounce off of puddles and trees.

I want to hide.

I want to be seen.

I don’t know which one I want more.

I am surrounded by vomit,


and sleepiness,

and disappointment.

When did everything I write become so dark?

Sun Rain

I long for car sunburns,

sleep, and spearmint gum.

I’ll move to the Midwest and use it as toothpaste.

We’ll pass of Fireball on the road

and use bumps as pick-me-ups at 5am.

We’ll never think of the rain again.



Tart cherry,

I lost my grandmother’s ring.

The one with the rose quartz

and silver wire wrap. 

I’m kneeling on my carpet 

looking for wet spots.

I’m always picking up and putting down

such odd flavors. 



Thick mud 

Dried raspberries 



And rotting gums 

Water weight 

Crossed eyes

Lazy eyesssss

Green teeth

Peacock hair 

The chariot 

The chariot

The chariot 

Lions and witches 



Energy balls 




Lessons learned from not writing shit down 

Lessons learned from lightning 



A twilight focus.

I can always feel the shifts.

The 8 of Wands

on the 8th day

of the 8th month,

for 27 years.

Did I mention my lucky number is 8?



Steve said my hair looked like the color of love.

That I sleep with my mouth open

and smoke too much weed.

I am filled with love.

I am overflowing.

I am surrounded.

I am love.

I am love.

I am love.

I am love.

I am love.

I am love.

I’ll never forget it again.



There’s a nice sea breeze

in the middle of the city.

I haven’t seen a seagull in 3 days,

but I found my seashell necklace.

I thought I lost it in 2013.

My hair is blue now

It looks dreamy, dreamy, dreamy

If you run your fingers through it

you will find starfish


and rough sand.

You can take the mermaid out of the ocean,

but you can’t take the ocean out of the mermaid.



The Big Dipper shook dust off; onto my skin.

Made me a beacon in a constellation of people.

I am one of everything

and everything is one with me.

I’ll never wash off the glitter again.