I've seen myself in the same motions, for repeated moments in minutes on end.  I cannot fight the will, what will be; but I also can't hide the what in the "why be?"
. . .

for what and WiLL

All of this likeness to appear in one mess;
in such a convoluted mess that the undress became a dressing to the wound.

I cannot or will not, can't see or be that hard, geometric wall,
giant;
TALL.
 that with such mess and such is this,
to find close in such and further to that which, thus……
and this
just
IS
then.

I was what I would will then --
and when I'd will, I'd forget that remember-
IN'.

Couldn't sleep without a twitch;
Couldn't control that weep,
and
what and oh
which….
will  C R E E P
(the kind of two they never expected you to)
….and be
for me and you
…(that which/what will "be")….
and forever
for that which wills what we cannot
S E E , (.)

sleepwriting from recollections unrememberd

the undoing of the doing in the face of a brain so intoxicated by the infection of reality eating the earthy sentiments that may have made love "love."  ======== nothing moves organically in the direction of "rational."  murder sighs, murder signs; in only a way that the murder not be a tangible manifestation of the physical act;  murder in a soul-sense.  you will not be a highway-island, only an isolated planar reflection of intersections of dead and dying.  dying, much slower, moving subtly in these strange, haunting, half-remembered dreams of recurring places in the time of (un)realtime.

the brainpain

i woke,
intact.
in the insane brain a pact
to keep the secret insane
a secret in the
PAINBRAIN
to breath and pulse
the feelings spreading in
a
frantic
CONVULS(E)
/(ion)

 

photos copyright Katelyn Roof 2012

OH...be patient (with me)

I'm waiting for me --
to tell me everything ...
about me.
Oh wait…is that right?  Is that polite?

For me to tell me  /
about the fleeting flee?



...I don't think i know me;
my brain,
the brain pain i feel in my brain --
so insane.
i don't think the "me"
knows the "we"
that the "me" claims to be.


i think that "me" knows
U N C O M F O R T A B L (Y).
the awkward space in between pauses,
the claws
in  -   between
shaky    
c l a u s e s  …
if you could know
(t) H // i \\ (s)
 

Then,
you would know that.
(without a "what is.")
If you could have known that;
when "that" was "this,"
and this 'n' that had a spat

-- a fight to see who won --

to become the
BE

or the

COME

for the forever that you never

L   E   F   T

UN-
done.

somnambulant composition #1

i try to find the pretty in the ugly.  but all of the pretty is really pretty ugly.  it's all ugly.  there can be hope in all of the dark, and the one bit of light is enough to grab onto for the moment, but the moment is a fleeting breath, a once and done….a nice memory for maybe a week and some.  and then…done.  just done.  spend a night wrapped up in arms, spend months searching for the same, searching and never finding.  you can subsist on the lack of substance, but somehow something becomes way better than just nothing. 

this that and that this

do I
MISS
close(NESS)
or
do
I
miss
THIS?

 

copyright Katelyn Roof 2011