She’s more fun when she is drunk
At least…until she’s not
Because she’s puking in the toilet
And regretting her last shot

She’s more confident when she’s drunk
Gorgeous and ready to score
Until she looks in a mirror
And feels even uglier than before

She likes herself more when she is drunk
Until that feeling goes away
When she is so far beyond gone
That her self-hatred comes out to play

She’s happier when she’s drunk
All her issues leave her brain
But they all come crashing back at once
And cause her so much pain

She likes the world more when drunk
It’s filled with so much good
Until one little thing sets her off
And she hates it all more than she should

She likes life more when she’s drunk
Her mind for once feels still
Terrified of losing that feeling
She soon wants to end things with a pill

But she can stop any time she wants
Or so she’d have you believe
Because alcohol makes her seem so happy
That is, until all her friends leave

I hold you tight up against my body
I take you with me even to the party

I rub you back and forth
Up and down from south to north

I love the way you sing hard and soft
I just can't keep my hands off

I pull you close
From coast to coast

You are beautifully sound
I will never pass you around

Magnificently perfect
You have all of my respect

You are my best friend
Till the end

She is moonbeams
And dappled sunlight
Renewal and
New beginnings
Gracing the land
With fragrant blossoms
Buzzing bees
And dandelion flurries
As children play
In Spring’s garden
Blowing happy bubbles
And laughter floats
Touching the heart and soul
She is Mistress of Spring

Kelly Rose
© April 1, 2017

I sit at work thinking
When my heart is sinking

Questioning myself over and over
When will I reach for the clover

As to the path I chose
Was it left or right

I choose to go left
I fell off the cliff

Wish I had turned right
Because  it was so bright

They say run away from the light
Everything was so dark like it was night

Something kept biting me
I was running for safety

I would Never to be the same
Never to be ashamed

Sadness is the wine of the soul
You, when looking down on me didn't know
How I've made mine perfect
Through many years
Effortlessly.

Pain that has every title,
Seeps like the rain to my roots
And gives me fear of nothing
But fear of feeling anything at all.

And I wait in the dark of life
Still like in sleep
Until the hour
All clocks stop.

When with you,
All clocks stop.
When with you,
Sadness grows
In saying goodbye.

Four simple words I'll give:
Goodbye,
I love you.
Still like in sleep
Until the hour
All clocks stop.

Who else but you serves
such sweet coffee liqueur
in the morning when
the roosters crow and
cow **** wafts through
the lazy floating curtains
stained with bacon grease
and griddle clusters?

Who else but you *****
with certainty so unabashed
and confident of the pleasures,
niceties, and sacrifices you’ve
transferred over to me through
cable wires and USB ports?

Who else but you can trap a
great city in a corner and
claim it as your own, with
courtly love entirely free
of condescension?

Who else but you could stay
stagnant for five hundred years
with false aspirations and
then flip swiftly to a whole
new fantasy?

Who else but you tastes of smoked
salmon on christmas eve, of burnt
butter from a silver spoon, of cold
green tea, of sugared plums, of
eggshells and beer batter and wine?

Who else but you can laugh
like a hyena eating a screeching
cat but still make hearts melt
out of belly buttons and tickle
lungs with fresh air?

Who else but you rips holes
in my jeans and shoots freeze
rays into my eyes to dry out
the skin on my knees and bring
tears because you know you’re
the only one who can heal them?

Who else but you sparks
indignation with a kiss
and forms rebel alliances
with whispers in the dark,
in the cold, on the hard floor
of a ***** dorm room?

Who else but you is
palpable enough to
wring juices from with
my lips like a chilled
nectarine leaning on the
white metallic pool edge?

Who else but you makes me
leave turquoise and indigo tick
marks in the crevices of my
fingers and lifts me out of
languid slumbers through
dew crusted eyelids and
musky morning breath?

It has been time. All of the time.
And there is no one else but you.