My name is

My name is

My name is

And I don’t understand why

we’re hugging


we’re in a circle.


we’re here.


My name is

And I don’t know you.

Or you.

My name is

And I don’t understand why they didn’t show up again.

My name is

And I’m bored.



Walking in with McDonalds in my hand.

My name is…

And we’re late again.


I can’t talk to my friends.

I can’t play in the rooms here.

My name is

And I know the serenity prayer.

My name is

And I

grew up



My name is

As I stick my right foot in

Arms wrapped, holding other people tight.

My name is

And this is how I spend my Friday night.


My name is

And I’m fourteen.

Watching a whole room of two hundred people get clean.


My name is

And I have a little sister

By the age of 12.

Her name is

And we stare from the table at the “12 Step” books on the shelf.


Our names are

And we grew up in the collective of NA.

Narcotics Anonymous

In rooms that would

Remember our names.


White Band

White Band

What are you in for?


Enlarged heart

Third degree burns

Bit by a dog

Appendicitis concerns.


Check in at the front desk.

Dad’s insurance will have to cover I guess.


Last name

First name


Yes, my roommate drove me.


This place is sick



“I can wait to shower after this.”


The wait could be four hours or more

And six until you’re discharged in the morn’.


How did it happen?


A car accident

A crash

A fall

I didn’t mean for it to happen at all.


Reason for coming in?

Hold out your wrist and put on this white band.


All looks normal

Your heart looks fine

Blood work is near perfect

We’re not sure what was the affect.


But there’s no concussion



All look good.


Go home

You’re fine in all likelihood.


But to commemorate your visit

A bracelet of PVC

A white band

To remember your head injury.


img_9309The CAT

The cat will not harm you.

She’ll eat and sleep.

Barely making more than a peep.


She’ll follow you around and keep you safe,

in her own little way, here for your embrace.


She’ll never walk out,

She’ll never curse your name.

She’ll love you forever,

and sleep beside you who’s in pain.


Because you’re their human, and you mean just that much,

even if he didn’t make you feel anything such.


She’ll be there through it all,

after he’s watched you fall.

She’ll become your shadow to make sure you’re okay,

and sleep through it with you all of the day.


Because you’re their human and she’s here to protect you,

now that you other two have said adieu.


The cat won’t force you to stay behind,

give up your weekend for what they had in mind.

They won’t tell you to stop in the midst of grief,

they’ll curl up next you and fall back asleep.


The cat won’t walk out,

not because the door is closed,

but because you’re their human, and you mean just that much.

And they’ll let let you know this, when he didn’t do anything such.


The cat will need let out,

but she’ll come back at a moments call,

because she heard your sniffling out in the hall.


The cat might not be there the entire time,

but she’ll be there for the biggest part of your emotional climb.


While instead he walked out, intent to leave you there,

there on your knees with his threat now more than a scare.


The cat is going to be there to tell you you do mean the most,

when he couldn’t do it, despite being so close.


The cat will be there with comforts to spare,

to show you how very much they really do care.


Because you’re their human, and you mean just that much.

Even when he didn’t make you feel anything such.

Dead Without Dying

Dead Without Dying

All the time I feel my blood racing

at a high blood-pressure boil.

My muscles contract,

and I can’t get out of bed.


The nail picking has started again,

a nervous harmful habit returned.


I close my eyes as a poem starts,

but I almost can’t get up to grab the pen to start it.


And with a long day ahead I was plenty prepared for,

this was how another day started.

A rueful thought framed on a phone,

that made my body feel heavy as stone.


With this feeling,

I’d be dead without dying.

Or so I’d rather be.

To feel nothing and none of this,

I might think could be bliss.


To go back to how we were,

or sleep the day away.

Submerged underwater

without these feelings to penetrate.


I call it dead without dying.

A feeling to heed,

and perhaps now something I need.


To forget everything

and run from this life,

like a scared little child turned in fright.


I call it dead without dying,

and wonder how it’d be,

to drop all this wretchedness onto another me.


To be happy again

in this lonesome catacomb,

or sleep through it all,

and in my dreams run and roam.


Sleeping through the grief,

writing found but at a taxing relief.


Here I’d rather feel dead without dying,

’till we can fix this again.

Dead without dying,

and sleeping ’till then.



Dying –

A place there in the moment, numb and living,

Without the bad feelings there and unforgiving.