Return to the Bottom

I want to lay down and sleep
Forever dreaming of the days I woke to your smile
The heady aroma of everything you are
Keeping me on the highest cloud
I want to return to the days
When I lived in your heart
Because I don't know where to go from here
In the world of today where "alone" is just as abstract as "dream"
And I don't think I remember who I was before I was yours
So
I want to lay down and sleep
Because I remember the view from the bottom
Where the floor needed vacuuming
And the old show under the bed was a comforting friend
The thing is
The bottom is up from where I am now
And above that is the dream of the memory of
You
I want to lay down and sleep
Because falling so far after rising so high
Feels like jumping off a bridge and not dying
I need to lay down and sleep
Before I start to fight the instinct to survive
And dreams become the reality of sleeping forever

Sketchbook

It started with a line
A pencil sketch from a steady hand
Vertical and straight, right down the left margin
Until a sudden curve
Quite literally draws it away
Mere seconds before it would have run out of page
     and died a smudge on the desk

The curve became a spiral
A slow and determined movement
Building a path
Traveling around and around itself
As if it were seeking its own center
Seeking some sort literal closure
     in the absence of an emotional one.

It started again with a square
One on top of another
Connected at the corners building a cube
Shaded on the side and
Casting a shadow to block out the spiral 
A box to keep everything in
     and the walls to keep everything out

Because this picture isn't worth 1,000 words
It's only a sketch worth 500
Just a moment in time, a second really
To explore the white space and
Rob it of its purity
Spreading darkness like butter onto bread
     feeding consciousness with beauty only to be thrown away

In the end maybe its enough
It might just happen that this sketch reached its full potential
And died happy in the trash
Balled up in the corner, hugging itself
Finally loving itself and being happy to do it
Or maybe that's the lie
     and every sketch that ever died in the trash is mad as hell

It could have been so much more
The next Mona Lisa or
Something as bright as Starry Night
Cathartic as the Scream
Only how will a sketch ever know
Huddled up around itself in the trash
     the junkie of art

Then it starts again with a line
Only the hand isn't so steady now
It shakes, trembling with urgent desire
An artist's need to create
To get that next fix
An explosion of self-expression in an image
     saying everything that must never be said

This line is darker
Striking in its boldness
Running to the edge of the white
Daring itself to jump from the page
To the sky as a bird in flight
A masterpiece sculpted from the meager beginnings
     of bold lines on a page

Instead the jump is a break
A right angle across and another up
Sketching the path of an elevator
Down to up and down again
Then back up and down more quickly
Cycling faster and faster rushing to the right margin
     where it will die, a smudge on the desk

It started with a line
A brushstroke from a steady hand
Vertical and straight, right down the left side of the canvas
Until a sudden curve
Quite literally paints it away
The beginning of a new picture born from trash
     a masterpiece worth 1,000 words. 

Time Squared

I took my gaze off of myself
The day you were born

The day we met
My future became our future

I smiled more than ever
Because I knew I’d never be alone

I’ve watched you grow
With fascination, admiration and adulation

All I want
Is to see your future

To honor your wish
In seeing love unfettered, held only for you

I’ve learned
Through your teachings

With time
All things will change

C

I am the basis for your division

Without me you will never be full

I am the sum of your isolated incidents

I am semiperfect and self-descriptive

I am the explosion of your heated passion

Your blood could never boil in anger if it weren’t for me

I am the will of legislation

You are bought and sold at my hand

I’ve seen more years than nearly anyone alive
I can save your life

The individual within your group

I burn brightly as the Sun

The microcosm of your macrocosm

I escorted Christ to his condemnation

I am the tears that make the river of your Sin

I am ordinal perfection

I am Dante’s Divine Comedy

A vigilant overseer 

I am the eyes of Argus

The Verbe de Dieu

I am to be crowned as King

The creation of order from chaos

I am the achievement of all your dreams

I am the path to inner peace

The determination of your secrets

I am the discovery of the absolute and completely hidden

Supremely perfect

I am the Universal Energy

Bringing new beginnings

I am the end of the road

Soul Tree

Awake again.
Alive in perpetuity,
Alone in purgatory
Chained to the hard floor.
 A shadow cast aside;
Left behind in the light.
Standing in the skin of a wolf;
Old bones collected in a haggard hide.
Still covering up your scars?
Hiding the real skin?
It bleeds beneath the spit in your eye.
Bruises on your neck,
Frantically glue together
Every rule over broken.
Desperate for the maudlin dream of yesterday,
A seedy, macarbre facsimile of what was;
Old when it was new.

Which pill will you take
To quell the voice speaking truth?
A light in the dark.

A Fork in the Road

-1-

I hate Mrs. Beaverdick's class, don't you? I wish we could get out of here and do something fun. Anything's gotta be better than sitting here listening to her drone on about Lois & Clark or whatever. 

Liam chuckled at the misnomer in spite of himself. He took his blue pen and drew a line through the black ink of "Lois & Clark" replacing it with  "Lewis & Clark." Then, he added a few words of response and folded the paper along its pre-existing creases and passed it back to the young girl sitting next to him.

Ava slyly reached a hand down toward Liam's proffered note and snatched it back to her desk quickly; before suspicion could be roused. Her shoulders shuddered as she giggled silently, looking at Liam out of the corner of her eye. Her face flushed as he brushed light brown bangs from his brow, tucking the longest portion behind his ear. She bit her bottom lip as he winked at her. She averted her gaze before she gave her feelings away completely. After all, the whole world didn't need to know that she had a crush on Liam. Unfolding the paper she frowned at his correction, chastising herself for allowing him to think she was dumb. She glanced at his reply, trying to be as non-chalant as possible just in case he was watching.

This class is the worst. I'd love to get outta here. what did you have in mind?

Ava felt her stomach rise into her throat as the butterflies inside fought to escape. She hadn't actually been serious about getting out of the class; it had been a pretext to talk to Liam and perhaps catch his attention. Now, it seemed, he'd called her bluff and she had no Earthly idea what to do next. She looked at him, choosing to end the note passing before she got in even deeper. When he caught her gaze she shrugged at him, signaling that she didn't know what to do next. Liam smiled and raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Cunningham, you have a question?"

"Not exactly, Mrs. Beaverdick. I need to use the restroom."

"This is the Ninth grade, Mr. Cunningham. By this point in your life I'd like to hope you know when to use the restroom and when not to."

"So, I can go then, right?" Liam asked, feigning uncertainty.

"Yes, you can go. Though I do want to remind you that Lewis & Clark and the Louisiana Purchase will be on next week's test."

"Didn't they buy it from the French in 1803?" Liam said with a smirk, showing that he had mastered the material.

"Don't be a smartass." Mrs. Beaverdick said, though there was only friendly warmth in her voice.

"Better to be a smartass than a dumbass." he said, smiling.

"I thought you had to pee?" the teacher admonished.

Liam held up his hands in an "I surrender" gesture and retreated from the classroom. As the door shut behind him, he turned and caught Ava's eyes once again. He wagged his index finger in a come hither motion, then folded his hands together in mock prayer as the door shut.

*                    *                    *

"That was the last time I saw him, I swear." Ava said, her lips trembling, tears falling down her face,
"I already told you that. Why can't you just find him or else leave me alone?"

"That's quite enough." Mrs. Beaverdick said, placing a hand on Ava's shoulder. Her eyes, though, were on the older male in the room. His hair was thinning at his crown, light brown, but with temples that mixed silver with white. His beard was similarly marbled, with silver and white streaking through the thicker red and brown that looked uncharacteristically soft for facial hair.

"Mrs. Beaverdick, Ava," the man began,
"It's been thirty days since anyone has seen or heard from Liam. I don't know if you get what that really means. We don't have the resources to keep something like this going indefinitely. If we can't turn up a new lead in the next 24 hours then the case is going to be closed and marked as unsolved."

"No!" Ava cried,
"No, you can't give up!" she cried, sobs wracking her frame.

"I don't want to, sweetheart. But unless you or anyone else can think of something, and think of it fast then we're going to have no choice. The only way to keep this going is with a new lead. Now are you sure you can't think of anyhing else? Someplace he maybe liked to go that no one else knows about?"

Ava sobbed in response.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant." Mrs. Beaverdick said,
"At this point the school can't let you continue without the girl's parents present."

"I understand. We've talked with Mr. and Mrs. Arcola already; the first time we interviewed Ava, here."

"Has her story changed at all since then?" Mrs. Beaverdick asked.

"Not one word." the Lieutenant sighed.

"May I ask what you're hoping to gain?"

"It seemed clear from their friends that Ava and Liam had a relationship. Now, there just isn't something right about all of their classmates telling me they're inseperable and this girl is telling me He could disappear on her and she'd have no idea what's going on. It makes the hair on the back of my nick stand on end. When the hair on the back of my neck stands on end then I know there's something else going on."

"Try to remember what it was like to be that age, Lieutenant." Mrs. Beaverdick soothed,
"They might have expected to get married and run off together one week and then hated the sight of each other the next week."

"Yeah," he nodded,
"Yeah, I know you're right. It's just that ... have you ever had to tell a man and woma who's only child is missing that you're calling of the search?"

"No. I haven't." Mrs. Beaverdick said, allowing her eyes to sink to the floor,
"It will be a terrible blow to the Cunningham family, I know. And I don't mean to be indelicate, but isn't that a part of your job, Lieutenant?" there was no malice in her tone, and the Lieutenant looked at her, his eyes icy and his voice hard as steel.

"Yes it is, Mrs. Beaverdick. And if you'll excuse me, it's time I performed my duties." he turned on his heel and left the class.

"Would you like a cup of tea, dear?" Mrs. Beaverdick asked after he'd left. Ava nodded her head,

"Yes, the Lemon Ginger if you have it."

"Of course."

Ava sat still, her eyes focusing and unfocusing on what had been Liam's desk. No one knew what had happened to him. He'd left History class a month ago and for all practical purposes disappeared off the face of the planet. Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham had been given the standard trope of waiting 48 hours to file a missing persons report, even though anyone that knew Liam knew that he wouldn't have strayed far from his family. Ditching school? Maybe, but to not come home or call? That was so out of character that no one close to the family understood why they'd been forced to wait two whole days to get a search underway.

A surge of hope permeated the community on the 49th day when the search began in earnest. It seemed as if every man, woman and child had stepped forward to search for Liam. Ava and her parents working closely with the Cunninghams. Ava had gladly tole everyone everything that she knew. She'd confessed to having a crush on the boy, that she believed his feelings to be returned but had not acted on them. She'd taken them through all of the youth hangouts and secluded makeout spots. 39 kids had been busted for smoking pot. 17 had been caught in various stages of undress and sexual congress. 4 had been caught running away from home and had been reunited with their families. None of them had been Liam.

"There we are, now." Mrs. Beaverdick said jovially a she set a cup of tea in front of Ava.

"Thank you." Ava said, sipping gently.

"How are you holding up, Ava?"

"I'm okay, I guess." She said with a shrug.

"This seems to have been tough on everyone, but no one moreso than you. Losing your first boyfriend like that."

"He wasn't my boyfried." She said, guardedly.

"Oh come on now. It's just us girls, and I'm no fool. Everyone knew the two of you were an item, even if you hadn't announced it to everyone."

"But we weren't." Ava said, firmly.
"I liked him. And I think he liked me back. But the thing is, we never had a chance to ... well ...." she stammered.

"I know, dear. I know what you said in your official statement. And it may be true. But what were your true feelings? How did you label your friendship wth Liam?"

"He wasn't my boyfriend." Ava insisted. Then, when she caught sight of Mrs. Beaverdick's raised eyebrows,
"I just wanted him to be."

"I know, Ava." Mrs. Beaverdick soothed, taking sip of her tea.
"You know, I think I excused Liam to the restroom more than any of my other students. Nearly everyday. I actually tried to set my watch by it once. He wasn't so exact that I could really do that, it turns out. Still, everyday at some point around 1:30 he would ask to be excused to the restroom."

"I didn't realize it was every day." Ava said, shyly. Mrs. Beaverdick looked at the girl as if only now realizing she was there.

"Oh yes, every day." She continued,
"I always wondered where he was really going, but I didn't push it. He had good grades and worked hard. As long as he kept that up, I guess I felt I could look the other way."

"Mrs.Beaverdick?" Ava asked,
"Are you okay?" Her voice sounded anxious.

"Yes, I'm fine, dear. You should probably run along home."

Ava hesitated at the dismissal. She wanted to leave; she wanted to be alone more than anything. There was something about the way Mrs. Beaverdick was acting, though.

"I'm actually not done with my tea." She deflected.

"Ava, why did you lie to the Police?" Mrs. Beaverdick asked bluntly.

"What do you mean?" Ava went pale.

"Liam was excused from class for the restroom more than any other class. Do you know who was next on that list? Who had cramps so often that there is no way mathematically possible for her to be on a 28 day cycle?"

"Who's that?" Ava asked, sardonically.

"Why you, dear." another sip of tea.

"I didn't realize."

"Of course you didn't. If you had, then you'd know to change up your story, to come up with some other excuse or to vary which teacher you cut out on."

"Mrs. Beaverdick, I'm done with my tea now. I think I'd better go."

"Of course dear, I'll walk you. It'll be getting dark soon. Us ladies must stick together, safety in numbers you know."

Ava allowed the teacher to lead her out, stopping only to flip off the light switch as they left.

-2-

"What do you mean you've got to close the case?" Richard Cunningham rose to his feet, his face flushed with anger as he fairly towered over the Lieutenant. He ran his fingers through his thinning light hair before shoving his hands into the pocket of his cardigan. If he hadn't been so flushed with rage, there would be nothing intimidating about this man.

"Mr. Cunningham, I'm so sorry. You'll never know how sorry I am. I won't condescend as to cry about tax cuts and budgets; I just want you to know that if it were up to me I'd keep this investigation going indefinitely."

"So you do think Liam is still alive?" Joan Cunningham asked, wiping fresh tears and smeared mascara from here face.

"Yes I do. In fact, I believe that his girlfriend-"

"Liam wasn't seeing anyone. We told you that." Richard spat in disgust. The Lieutenant continued, unfazed.

"Friend, then. At any rate, I believe that Ava knows more than she's letting on. I think their involvement was more than a mere friendship and more than 'puppy love.'"

"What makes you think so?" Joan asked.
"She seems as broken up about this as anyone."

"Well, it's an instinct mostly. The thing is, she's not done anything ... not acted in any way other than exactly how we'd expect a young girl in this situation to act. Now, I'm not a psychologist, but it's damn peculiar to me. The 'textbook' cases are there to establish a pattern and tell us what to look for but there's not really any such thing as a 'textbook case' of anything. There are always little variations. Personality traits that are unique to the individual and makes their response close to the textbook but still slightly off. Ava? She's an exact textbook case. She cries when I expect her to cry. She says what I expect her to say. She's even insolent when I expect her to be insolent. It's like she's reading a script."

"Wait a minute, what are you saying? The Arcola girl knows where my boy is?" Richard was beginning to shake with rage.

"Richard, please sit down. The Lieutenant will explain, won't you Lieutenant?"

"I, uh, I don't know if I'd go as far as to say she knows where he is. But I do think she knows something and isn't telling. I don't think the teacher," he consulted his notes,
"Mrs. Beaverdick, is convinced as to the bone fideness of the girl's story, either."

"Well, get her to tell you." Richard nearly screamed.

"It isn't that simple, Mr. Cunningham. Ava is a minor and therefore protected. I can't question her without her parents present. I was allowed to talk to her with her teacher present today as a courtesy. Nothing more. Unfortunately, my conversation didn't turn up anything new; now here we are."

"You said we had twenty-four hours, right?" Richard asked, calmly.

"I'll be the one closing the case if I haven't turned up anything new before I go off duty at seven tomorrow morning. I just felt I owed you the respect of looking in your eye."

"And we appreciate that, Lieutenant." Joan said, softly. Tears ran down her face, though it was impossible to tell if she wept for her missing child, her unstable husband or for herself,
"But I think you'd better go, now."

"Yes," the Lieutenant stood,
"Yes. I'll give you some privacy. Just before I go, let me ask you, is there anything else you can think of? Any place Liam may have gone? Something he said that seemed innocent at the time but now ...." he trailed off.

"There's nothing, Lieuenant." Richard spat.
"There's nothing at all. And my boy is gone. And you're telling us to get over it."

"Mr. Cunningham, I wish there were more that I could do. I promise you we'll keep looking until the last possible second."

"No you won't." Joan said, her voice eerily cheery.
"You'll close the case long before the last possible second." She looked the Lieutenat in the eye coldly, though her tone remained upbeat and civil,
"Honestly, Lieutenant, I do understand that you can't keep up the search. I, that is, we, knew that it would happen eventually. It's just that I must insist that you be honest with us, and honest with yourself when you say it. You will not look until the last possible second."

"I suppose that's one way of looking at it."

"I want you to say it." Joan said, maintaining her calm demeanor,
"I want to hear you say that you won't look until the last possible second."

"Joan, come on, that's enough." Richard said, shooting a glare toward the Lieutenant,
"We're all upset. I'm angry too."

"He isn't. He's closing the case. The least he can do is be honest about it."

"Mr and Mrs. Cunningham, it is true I will have to close the case if I can't turn up a new lead by tomorrow morning. I realize this is upsetting news, and I want you to know that you have my deepest sympathies." Before they could reply, he turned and left; finding that he couldn't stand to look at them for another second.

Joan Cunningham crumpled to the floor. Richard caught her as she wailed. Sounds of pure pain and despair filled the hall as the Lieutenant walked away as quickly as he could while still being considered polite.

*               *               *

"Thank you for coming." Richard stood, and gestured for the seat across from him. Ava pulled the chair out and accepted his invitation.

"Of course, Mr. Cunningham. I was surprised to hear from you. Is everything okay? I heard about Liam's case being closed."

"Yes, the uh," Richard poured a glass of water for each of them from a pitcher that doubled as a centerpiece,
"The Lieutenant told us he'd talked to you."

"I wish I could help more." Ava said, concentrating on her glass of water, which was now sweating.

"The Lieutenant seemed to think you could." Richard said, his voice only shaking slightly.

"I don't understand." Ava said hesitantly.

"You don't understand," Richard mocked,
"You don't understand."

"Mr. Cunningham, are you okay?" Ava asked.

"You listen to me you little bitch," Richard grabbed her arms in his hands and pinned her to the table,
"I'm not the police and I don't follow anyone's rules but mine. And right now, when it comes to my son, to getting Liam back; I don't have any rules."

"Mr. Cunningham, you're hurting me." Ava whimpered.

"Good. That's how you can tell I'm serious. Ava. The Lieutenant believes you know more than you're telling. That your teacher believes you know more than you're telling. So I'm going to tell you what's going to happen. You're going to tell me what you know. Then you're going to go home and get ready for school tomorrow."

"Mr. Cunningham, I promise I don't know anything."

"Then why does everyone think you do?" Richard's voice rose and drew the attention of other nearby diners. He relaxed his grip on the girl's arms, allowing her to yank them free.

"I don't know, Mr. Cunningham. I don't. I don't know what happened. I wish to God I did but I don't.' she began to sob. Richard watched her intently, remembering the Lieutenant's words that she appeared to be following a script.

"Ava, what do you know? Please. Please just tell me. I need to understand." He pleaded with her.

"Mr. Cunningham, like I said I just don't know what happened." She replied.

"And I don't believe you." Richard said. Ava followed him out, but the two didn't share another word.

-3-

"It's just up here." Ava said, motioning for the Lieutenant to follow her.

"What is?" He asked.

"I have to show you. I can't wait for you to see it. Maybe then you'll believe me. Believe that I don't know what happened."

"Ava, I do believe you." the Lieutenant insisted.

"That's not what Mr. Cunningham said. He said you thought I knew more than I was telling."

"He shouldn't have spoken with you. I'm sorry that happened." The Lieutenant inwardly seethed. He should have seen this coming. The Cunninghams had both shown evidence of instability; it should have been obvious that one or both of them would do something stupid. He forced himself to put those thoughts aside for now, concentrating on following Ava.

He had met her at the school as she'd asked. Ava had called him and simply said that she had something to show him and that it was about Liam. She had led him from the school to a storm drain that ran behind the length of the school and its neighborhood. They'd followed the drain for a quarter of a mile, Ava insisting that their destination was "Just up ahead," before she began the climb out of the drain. The Lieutenant was now perched on the top of a runoff tunnel, his right hand holding onto a rock as he waited for Ava to climb ahead and make space for him to follow. She climbed to a point about five feet above him before turning around and motioning for him to follow.

"Quickly, Lieutenant. You need to see it! I need you to see that I don't know what happened."

"Ava, honey, I know you don't know what happened. Can't you tell me where we're going?"

"It's just up ahead. Near the Quarry."

"Ava, stop. I'm not going another step until you tell me where we're going." the Lieutenant stood up straight, allowing his height to intimidate the girl.

"Lieutenant, please. It's just up ahead."

"You need give me a little more to go on, young lady." He admonished.

"Walk with me and I'll tell you." She compromised. The Lieutenant followed her, reluctantly.

"Mrs. Beaverdick, you met her right? Her class really is the worst. Liam and I both hated it. We used to come up with any excuse we could think of to get out of it. He would have to use the bathroom, I'd fake cramps. Stuff like that. We've been friends for a really long time so it was really just a bit of fun. I promise. It was nothing more than a little fun. Do you believe me?"

"Ava, if you mean do I believe that you didn't do anything on purpose, then yes. I do believe you. But what did happen? Was there some sort of an accident?"

"You're not listening." Ava said, exasperated.

"We found this tunnel leading of from the Quarry. We started to explore it."

"Tunnel? Ava is Liam in this tunnel?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you Lieutenant. I don't know what happened."

"Okay Ava," he soothed,
"Just start from the beginning."

*               *               *

Ava watched the door close on Liam's "come hither" finger wag and smiled. Today was the day. She knew it. Today was the day she would tell him how she really felt. Today was the day of their first kiss. She looked at her planner and drew a heart next to the date where she had already written: "First kiss with Liam. Remember for anniversary purposes."

"Mrs. Beaverdick?" She called, raising her hand.

"Yes, Ava? I suppose you have to go to the bathroom too?"

"No, ma'am. I need to go to the nurse."

"You're not feeling well?" Mrs. Beaverdick asked.

"Not exactly. I sort of, um, forgot to bring ... you know ...." she silently hoped her teacher got the hint.

"I see. Yes, of course you may visit the Nurse."

Ava left as quickly as she could. She made sure the door shut before she moved again; not wanting anyone in the class to see her heading in the opposite direction. She bolted through the gymnasium exit, sprinting across the field to the hole in the fence that everyone complained about but that no one ever fixed. Once she was in the storm drain, she hurried to the Quarry. She'd half expected to catch up to Liam on her way, but there was no sign of the boy. Reaching the Quarry she made her way to the tunnel and found Liam waiting for her inside.

"Hey," she said, as casually as she could muster,
"How's it going?" There was no response. She looked at him, trying to tell if he was playing a game with her.
"I think Mrs. Beaverdick suspects something. I think we should make today count and take a break for a while and let things cool off. What do you think?'

There was again, no response.

"Speaking of making things count, Liam, there's something I've been wanting to give you for a long time. I've just been waiting for the right time. I think it's today." She leaned forward and boldly kissed him. She pressed her mouth firmly to his, allowing her passion to dictate the ferocity of the kiss. Her hands went from his chest to the sides of his face. For his part, Liam stood stock still. His arms remained at his sides.

"Liam?" Ava asked, pulling away,
"Liam, don't you like me?"

Liam didn't respond. He didn't move. In fact there was no change at all in his demeanor aside from a low growl in his throat.

"Liam, I don't understand. What's happening?"

*               *               *

"What happened next, Ava?" The Lieutenant prodded. The girl had trailed off and been silent for two minutes.

"I've been telling you, Lieutenant. I don't know what happened."

"Well, we're at the Quarry now, can you show me this tunnel?" He tried.

"It's just over here." Ava motioned.

"Ava, why didn't you tell anyone about this before?"

"Oh, I did." She replied simply.

"You did?" He asked,
"Who?"

"Just the other day I told Mrs. Beaverdick." Seeing his surprised look, she continued,
"She asked me why I had lied to you when you'd asked me if I knew anything else about where Liam was. I told her I didn't know what happened. She didn't believe me so I had to bring her here to show her."

"I wonder why she didn't call me?" The Lieutenant muttered to himself.

"I think she might still be talking to Liam."

"To Liam? What the hell is going on Ava?"

"Oh, I also showed Mr. Cunningham. Though to be honest I didn't want to. He hurt me. And he's mean."

"He hurt you? Ava, we need to stop right now, and I need to take you in to make a formal statement."

"Well that'll be up to Liam, won't it?  I mean if he isn't really missing then why do I have to make a statement?"

"Where's Liam, Ava?"

The girl didn't respond. Instead, the Lieutenant felt a tug on his right arm. He looked at the source and found the lifeless eyes of Mrs. Beaverdick. The deathmask she wore betrayed the fact that she'd been terrified when she died. She lumbered on a broken right ankle, pulling the Lieutenant behind her. Ava smiled,

"I told you she was still down here. That's why she didn't call you."

"What is this? What's going on?" The Lieutenant asked.

This time the response came as a tug on his left leg. He looked down to find Mr. Cunningham's arms wrapped around his ankle. Looking closer he realized that it was only Mr. Cunningham's torso that had hold of him. The man's body seeemed to stop at the waist; his legs were missing or had been replaced by a trail of his intestines and digestive system that he dragged behind him. Ava's grin became even broader.

"Mr. Cunningham was so happy to see Liam that he rushed right up to him and gave him a hug. Liam missed his dad too. He hugged him so hard he pulled him right off his legs!"

"Ava, you've got to listen to me. Please. Help me. Get them off of me. We've got to get out of here."

"Not yet, Lieutenant. You need to see that Liam's okay. That I don't know what happened but he's okay."

The Lieutenant heard another low growl from in front of him. He turned his gaze to the source of the sound and found Liam moving toward him from the darkness. Ava walked around the Lieutenant and took the boy's arm, kissing him on the cheek. Liam made no move against the girl, instead moving toward the Lieutenant as if the man were all he could see. The boy was in the best shape of all of them, but was still obviously a corpse. His skin was pale, as if his body had been drained of blood. The Lieutenant could see the trace lines of veins as if the boy's skin was transluscent. Ava wrapped her arm around Liam and helped him toward the Lieutenant.

"See Lieutenant. He's okay. Just a little different now. I told you I don't know what happened and I don't. I kissed him and then he was like this. I don't think it was my fault,but I can't think of anything else it could be. I don't know what to do, now because everyone thinks Liam is missing and when they see him like this they'll all know it was my fault." She hung her head in embarrassment.

"Ava, you've got to get me out of here. I can help you. We can get a team here, like I heard they had in North Carolina. We can figure it out."

"You're not listening, Lieutenant. I don't know what happened. I don't know what happened to Liam. I don't know what happened to Mrs. Beaverdick. I don't know what happened to Mr. Cunningham, and when they come asking me I'll be sure to tell them I don't know what happened to you, either, Lieutenant." she looked at Liam, kissing him on the cheek again,
"I've got to get home, honey. Mom will be worrying if I'm not back soon. I'll be by in the morning to see you again." Another kiss, this time on his mouth, which was in mid-snarl when her lips made contact.

"Ava, don't do this. Please. We can figure this out."

As last words go, they weren't the best. Ava wished that he'd had something more poignant or inspirational to say. Something about love beating the odds and how to make a relationship work. She found it immensely disappointing that he'd been about as useful as the others. So focused on how Liam had changed. None of them seemed to care that she'd changed to. That Liam had made her a woman.

"There's nothing to figure out, Lieutenant. I love him. We'll find a way to make it work. Somehow." With a final kiss blown to Liam, Ava left; the Lieutenant's screams playing a recessional to her exit.

The L Word

Love you to death
Love you too
Love you til it hurts
Love you madly
Love will conquer all
Love will come to you
Love walks in
Love to be loved
Love thing
Love theme
Love that conquers
Love that burns
Love stinks
Love song for my mom
Love song
Love sneakin' up on you
Love sick
Love shoulda brought you home
Love should
Love shines
Love shack
Love sets you free
Love runs deeper
Love ridden
Love rescue me
Love removal machine
Love reign o'er me
Love potion # 9
Love pledge and the arena
Love out me
Love on your side
Love on the rocks
Love on the air
Love of my life
Love needs a heart
Love nation sugarhead
Love my way
Love me two times
Love me tender
Love me like music, I'll be your song
Love me like a man
Love me just leave me alone
Love me do
Love me
Love machine, part one
Love lovely love
Love like we do
Love like rockets
Love like a bomb
Love letters
Love it or leave it alone
Love is the seventh wave
Love is the drug
Love is stronger than justice
Love is strange
Love is not enough
Love is like a river
Love is here to stay
Love is dangerous
Love is blindness
Love is a rose
Love is a deserter
Love is a blind ambition
Love is a battlefield
Love is
Love in vein
Love in store
Love in an elevator
Love in a vacuum
Love, I don't need it anymore
Love hurts
Love her madly
Love her
Love has no pride
Love hangover
Love gets me every time
Love from here, love from there
Love for sale
Love dump
Love comes tumbling
Love child
Love changes
Love buzz
Love bug
Love bites
Love and sharks
Love and peace ... or else
Love and happiness
Love and anger
Love
Love
Love
Love
Love
Love
Love
Love
Love

L-Dopa (Borderline II)

El Dopa.

The dope.

That's not a real cognate.
The white queen, my sweet dihydroxyphenyl lover
It creates happiness and excitement and
Eternal mouthless hells where nor-and-regular-epinephrine torment me deservingly.
I am not happy. I can't even tell what's real.
The trite saying that love is a drug is true to members of my club
Holding meetings where anyone who gets off on adulation and attachment and access and ass and adrenaline and adultery are welcome.

Darling delicious Dopamine.
Somehow I've convinced two dozen men to sleep with me and dozens of women to waste their time on me.
My relationship with them reflects on me worse and on them better.
Often misleading, or irresistibly mysterious,
Mean polarized with nice.
Something about me has an allure.
Not incredibly attractive yet consistently handsome
The intricate push-pull of my vacillating attachments puts screws in people's hearts.

I'm exactly as painful as I sound.
I'm sorry.
I hate myself more than you hate me, though.
You can go away, now, just like everyone else.
Everything is temporary anyway. Leave me alone.
I'm a borderline personality and
I expect you to hate me for it.
But that sounds like it's not my fault--it is.
Everything is.
And isn't.

I can't pin down anything because my awareness changes in the breeze.
I always thought I won relationships because I didn't screw up.
When I disguise my win as a loss because there's so little of me there in the first place
If someone likes me I'm filled in with their bathroom mirror selfie and
I'm a whiteboard for a misguided subconscious desire for perfection
I'm perfect sometimes but I'm often ugly and I hate how badly I need your approval.
I'm broken and even trying to reassemble the mirror gives me glass slivers.
I'm double-business bound:Too good for hell and too bad for heaven
I'm simply who I am.
Just like you.

Closure

My old man taught me
Closure is in the bottom of a bottle.
He said,
Son, women don't feel love like men.
They manipulate, lie and bleed you dry.
My momma taught me
Closure is in never promising anything and
Never staying anywhere for too long
Because its always important to know
Where you're coming from
30 years down and I learned my lessons well;
I bounced from place to place
And bed to bed on my way to become a man
With a moral compass that doesn't always point north
Ever since my first baby momma taught me
Closure is in another man's balls and
That one swallow can ruin a marriage
And turn a family into a broken home.
In the end, nothing else matters
As long as my kid is made of rubber
With a bounce back that erases all my mistakes
So I can sleep at night
My head so full of dreams
Borm from the regrets I never wanted
After my second wife taught me
Closure is in the honesty
After it's been twisted and
Sharpened to a poisoned point
All to make sure the truth won't set me free
But rather shackle me to the whimsy of madness
Maybe my old man was right after all
Now that the bottom of the bottle taught me
Closure is in a line
White, on the bathroom sink tomorrow morning
With my head pounding the rhythm
Of the headboard
Smacking the wall
Of last night's mistake
And I tell myself I just need a little something
To make it through the day
Running from the voice in my head
Screaming shame, reminding me
With choice comes consequence
With love comes hate
With getting real, comes acceptance.
Because it was my husband who taught me
Closure is in breaking cycles
Being different is what separates man from beast
And sloppy seconds taste best when served used
Which leaves the moral of the story:
Life is life.
Closure is in learning to live it. 

Dinner Date

He picked me up at 7
Just like he said
All slicked back hair, shirt and tie
Perfect gentleman
Object of my desire
I couldn't seem to move
My breath a gasp
That caught in my throat
Held by the heroic heart in his chest
Saving the damsel from falling
At this Muse's feet
Because I will be who I am
All words, emotion and superciliousness
I will not be dictated to, controlled or held back
With the muse ready and willing as the
Vivid vessel for my viscid viscera
I will lay myself out here
Moral for your propriety
Naked for your pleasure
On a line that is so blurred
It's almost as invisible
As a line of coke
Snorted off my cock
But I digress

He drove me to Distraction
The favored diner for the preposterously psychotic
Perfect gentleman
Object of my creativity
I couldn't seem to speak
Because I will not move, bend or break
Here in the auspices of such company
The art will take control
The muse will stand on the table
And shout depraved and shameful desires
A test of the mettle for the most eager
Who will listen? Who has the balls?
And who will answer back
Climbing to meet him
I move as poetry with arms and legs
To lay down with him and whisper back
I want you inside me
Please come inside me
Grab this muse by the scrote
Just to pull him in
And he'll love every thrust
Until it all explodes in inked cum stains on the page
A Jackson Pollock of dark secrets laid bare
Before his broken promise to always be there
Cracked open, fragmented as the mind of
This musing Madman

And in the end
It will be me that is left standing
Boot atop the spent, exhausted muse
Fist clenched and ready to battle
Allegory, Alliteration, Simile and Verse
Because I will be who I am
All words, emotion and superciliousness
I will not be dictated to, controlled or held back
With the Muse ready and willing
I will lay myself out here
Armed with more words than can be spoken
I am my own muse.
Shirt and tie. Bearded smile
Object of your desire
Ready to catch you by the breath I grabbed from your throat
Nightmares playing reel to reel between your ears
Now I lay you down to sleep
Hear the depraved and shameful desires
That make you want me inside you
Walking through dreams from which you'll never wake
Waiting. Watching. Whispering.
I am God here
You will worship me.

Borderline

I used to sit down and the words poured out
The depths of my soul carried so much dark pain, beauty, love and poetry
I couldn't keep it inside.
These days,
The muse plays hide and seek
Showing its face to whisper in my ear
In that place between asleep and awake when dreams are real and life is hidden away
Today, I walk like a strung out porn star
Spilling out tried and true poetry with hat in hand for just a little coin
Exchanged for the good service of my verses
Interruptions to the process create a disjointed connection in the words
Taking me off course
Up, down and all around
Into the places I never wanted to go until
I'm here
Alone
Battered (but unbowed)
Bruised (but unbroken)
Bottled (but unbridled)
Now I sit down and the words are trapped inside
With no poetry to explain the things that are happening to me
When there are no words to convey the black and white shades in which I see the world.
I never thought a rainbow of gray would brighten my day
Yet here we are
On the Borderline
Approaching this crossroads 
And it finally becomes about choices
Do I choose to burn out?
Or do I choose to fade away?
Is it better to rule in hell?
Or is it better to serve in heaven?
What is real?
Or What is imagined?
I write like a child afraid of the dark
With just enough light to keep the monsters away
Sitting amongst all the broken mirrors
Never looking It in the face
But always scratching the itch left from healing wounds
Some self-inflicted and some received cash on delivery
When I already have IOUs instead of fucks to give
And I find myself praying for the peace of a coma
The calm of knowing I'll never let you down again
Instead I sing the words
"It's just a trip not a way to ease your pain"
Coming down to place the mask securely over this facade
I realize that the Monster's Muse is shared through the magic of alliteration
And I no longer need a mirror to see
The twisted parts inside of me
And the face only a mother could love
As she walks out the door
Promising a better life
Delivering better lies
And so here we are
On the Borderline
Drawing me closer
Ready to sell my soul
Signed, sealed and delivered
Soaked in the blood of innocents
While I pretend I'm amazing
Walking in the empty trail left by my lies
Toward the promise of a love
Secure in a sense of belong
Until that secret weak spot shows
And I'm left
On the Borderline
Standing alone while I fall
Just to feel better

My Friend

Will you be my friend?
When daylight fades to darkness
And I call you beautiful in the moonlight
Will you hold my hand?

Will you be my friend?
After everything and
When Everyone has gone away
Will you be the one?

Will you be my friend?
Everlasting and steadfast
When I stand alone against my own rage
Will you sing to soothe me?

Will you be my friend?
As the sun rises over the horizon
And your eyes light up my world
Will you see my smile return?

Will you be my friend?
 A lone voice above all the others
Will you help me return to Atlas' shoulders
When the weight of the world has gone wrong again

Will you be my friend?
After everything
Will you take my heart away and leave
Me and you against the world

Me and you against the world.
My friend.

Remember

This is a poem
To tell you what you're going through now is worth it.
I mean, that's what you always say.
But I want you to remember it.
I want you to feel it and know it.
Take it inside you and let it really fill you up
No. I mean REALLY fill you up, like a lover with a horse cock.
So that when you look in the mirror
All strung out with dark circles and tracks from dried tears drilling lines in your face
You'll know
You'll remember.
I want you to look at the sink and see
Crimson black, spilling into the water
The mess you've made of someone's dream
Go on, look at it
And remember
Remember every second of it
Lay in your bed alone
Cold and scared as a child of the dark
Too tired to sleep and too afraid to dream
Do you remember yet?
Good! That's real good.
Now start telling yourself its worth it.
Try to get up and lift that weight from your shoulders
Nevermind that you knew that's where it would fall
Go on, get back up you piece of shit
Get up and deal with it because this is what you wanted
Isn't it?
That's it. Just relax and let it happen.
Let it inside
Feel it in every corner of who you are
And let it embrace you, hold you
The only one who ever understood you
And you want it.
You know you want it.
Let it inside you, fill you with its seed
Make it a part of you
Your dark lover, your steady friend, your ongoing nightmare
Always remember that this is worth it.
Always remember that you asked for this.
Always remember what you really are.
Remember how special it really is, this relationship
Remember it when you cry at the beauty of the sunrise
When you think to kiss your lover like its the last time
Think to today, with blood on your hands and darkness in your heart
And laugh with your child
Never forget this pain and never push it away
Because you wanted it
You welcomed it
This is a poem to remind you that you chose blood, bile, tears and pain
All for Love, and poetry and beauty and laughter
Now look around at the ruins you've made
For a few moments of peace and a few hours of pleasure
Look at it again.
Remember.
It was worth it.

Cognitive Dissonance

The plains of the north

Sown from seed sprinkled

In dawn’s dew

Grows in the language

Of poetry

Hungarian snow

Blown across

The Western horizon

A good-bye kiss to a leaving lover

That lingers just a little too long

So I move across the sea

Humbled in my discovery

Separating from parentage the original sin

My laws are all of attraction

Staring, wide-eyed into the moon

I come alive

Giddy in the night

Flying straight through

This curtain of every color

Into Heaven’s gate

Back to my nest

Besotten of Human Condition

Sprinkled in sensitive discernment

Clear-eyes see things anew

Sight expanded by callings from beyond

The Will of Pan (Ode to Pan)

Evening mists
That creep and crawl
Must give way
To the Summer sun
Grasses drenched
In sodden dew
Will glisten in
The caustic hues of afternoon

Such is the will of Pan.

Flaming skirts
Of autumn leaves
Orange, and red, and gold
Dance upon
The zephyr of twilight
Falling silently
To sleep
Upon His domain

Such is the will of Pan.

Winter's breath
Upon my neck.
Icebound lips of blue,
They do kiss the snow
Before blowing away
Lost to the evening's
Befrosted paths
Lighting the way to the unknown

Such is the will of Pan.

The soft
Grass born of the
Frigid night
Returns to the light
The grandeur of Day
While trees bow
Gracefully in their homage
To the birth of all life.

Such is the will of Pan.

Offering

I've come here to sing your praises
To lay prostrate at your feet
The newest disciple of a dogma
Long since turned to dust.

I've come here to offer myself
Once again on the blank page
Piously offering words and verse
Ignoble is my reverence.

The words are all I have.
The words are all I am.
And I offer them to you.

I've come here basking in your beauty
To offer faith in perpetuity
Professing a love I've not felt
For what love can a mortal offer a God?

I've come here to feel again,
The sanctuary of your embrace
The solace offered by your smile
The pleasure of your penetration


The words are all I have.
The words are all I am.
And I offer them to you.

Awakened from your love
Forever changed by your touch
Cast down from Olympus
With a piece of heaven to share

Alive in your shadow

Fertility as divine copulation
Born of an ancient one's seed
What have I to give in return?

The words are all I have.
The words are all I am.
And I offer them to you.

Beautiful Boy

Beautiful boy

Sleeping so soundly

What dreams do you have

In your peaceful night's slumber?

Beautiful boy

So much awaits

In the many days to come

So much life yet to live

Beautiful boy

My heart aches for you

For wounds already dealt

For hardships yet to come

Beautiful boy

Sleeping so soundly

I promise my best

And I hope you'll understand

Beautiful Boy

I'm always here

Even when we're apart

I'll always be with you

Beautiful Boy

So innocent and free

I hope you know

You're loved beyond measure

Beautiful Boy

I hope you know

Beautiful boy

I hope you know

Life is But a Dream (Draft)

I can feel my heart thudding in my chest
I don't know if it's the drugs or the passion;
Either way it burns in my chest and pulses in my ears like bass at a rave
Sitting here now, with full intent to write it all down, get it all out,
Exploding in familiar loquacious ejaculation making the mind
As spent as the body
Sitting here now, the words won't come because the cum already came
So I write uncensored and unfettered
Far above your mortgage
and your car
and your bank
and your politics
and your chemicals
and your your war
and your death
Floating on a stream of consciousness

Merrily, Merrily, Merrily, Merrily
Life is but a dream

Yesterday is a Memory (1st Draft)

Thought can't stop
The world's constant turning
And I'm caught in a storm
Battered by winds of uncounted suffering
Swept away through rivers of flowing tears
I'm lost in the current
Drowning in my sorrows
Regretful of a life wasted away to nothing

Until it came, a soft breeze to dry my tears
To calm the choppy waters and brings peace to my soul
Whispering to me
Yesterday is a memory

A dream to be awoken from
Pulling the teeth from the monsters of the night
Shattering the dark into light
Brighter than the day

I can open my eyes to see
The stars have come out
Bringing beauty to the heavens
I can feel your arms around me
And the soft breeze; your breath
Whispering the softly spoken spell
Today is to come
Yesterday is a memory

I know peace
Through your love
And I am whole again
I know passion
Through your kiss
And I feel flames again
With thought aimed toward tomorrow
Yesterday is a memory

Snowflake

In my mind's eye I can see you
Not today
But the way you used to be
The way we used to be
With the sun in your hair
With the stars in your eyes
And I'm weary from the weight it takesTo carry this image in my head
Choking me with the fire of the lie

Bits and pieces show the past
Illuminating the shadows of what you are
And what we were
Leaving me to wonder

What will I do without you?

How will I live without your lies and
What is left of me after your abuse
How will I live in a world of happiness and joy
When all the while I'm expecting pain and suffering
How can I say goodbye
When your pain has been a companion for as long as I can remember

What will I say?
To the blank page that begs me to spill the agony
On it's waiting, depthless countenance
Where will I put the baggage?
Once forced to carry
Now empty, light and useless
What will come of my time?
Now filled with laughter and love
In the wake of such censure and condemnation
How will I feel
When the beautiful snowflake
Melts, only to fall and be wiped away
As an ordinary tear

In my mind's eye I can see you.
Not today.
Not anymore