“come home”
love speaks quietly, frantically
sipping from the cup of ignorance, i stray further
i wish to dwell a bit longer; i’m not ready to go yet
the sun dips below the horizon, but the flowers here are luminescent
i am enamored with their innocence, their roots so firmly planted in the past
i remember so vividly, they were so much more beautiful then
before was so beautiful
the wind picks up, and love calls to me
“come home, come home, come home”
but i am so young here, so young and open
i am not ready to close my doors
i want to stay longer, don’t make me go just yet
please, just a few moments more
but love pulled me away
love comes in many forms,
and it drew me into its arms and taught me on that day
that true love is sacrifice, and telling truth
even when truth is agony
love knows that knowledge is pain,
but acknowledging pain is the only gateway to release -
suffering is the path that leads to the flowers once again
“he’s gone”
(there is no metaphor
or number of tears
that could resurrect
his shriveled garden –
lord knows i’ve tried)
the present is not beautiful -
the present is disappointing
the flowers died for me that day
and i became uprooted
straying, asking questions that no one can answer
what if?
what if?
what if?
days, weeks, months pass
and love conquers all,
walking alongside me, guiding me through the suffering
my straying has become a direction
i can feel roots sprouting, giving me life once more
i can live again; he and pain are not synonymous
i can see the flowers growing again, just on the other side of this hill
love speaks quietly, with overflowing joy
“come home again, come home, come home”
but i no longer fear these words, not anymore
i’m almost there – it’s so close, i can taste it
i’m slowly beginning to learn –
after can be beautiful, too
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 1:38 AM UTC
the tears end as quickly as they begin,
but the waterfall within me rages on,
stealing away with my insides
and dampening every last spark of life.
Mar 13, 2015
Mar 13, 2015 at 2:59 PM UTC
you are a daughter of the stars
& so you are a miraculous beam of light with mysteries inside you that even the wisest & bravest can only dream of understanding (but be kind to those who try, for they are rare)
the breath upon your lips is new
but my love, your soul knew the moon when it was a child & together you played, altering the tides
your bones are extinguished comets, desperate for flight
all this to say that right now
you may feel a long way from home,
& the darkness may be overwhelming, but never forget where you come from
shine, shine, shine
& one day you will find a home within yourself and all the starlight that once seemed so far away will be at your fingertips
& you will form constellations to light up even the darkest corners of your soul
& you will finally realize that the universe has been inside you all along
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 3:17 PM UTC
i hope your hair becomes damp
as the snow lands
and melts upon the fiery red curls
that stick to your forehead
i hope your mascara runs
from your tears of laughter
as your brother trips
and lands face first - again
i hope your cheeks become red
and clash horribly with your
new forest green sweater
as the fireplace and wine warms them
i hope your nail polish cracks
from unwrapping all those presents
(there really is no such thing
as too many socks!)
i hope you realize that evening
when you look in the mirror
that despite your weariness
none of it matters at all and that
you are so ******* beautiful
i just hope you know that
because confidence does not come
wrapped neatly in a stocking
(it comes from within)
Dec 22, 2013
Dec 22, 2013 at 10:52 PM UTC
the day you said hello to me
for the very first time
you hung the rope for me
and placed the stool gently
so very tenderly
beneath it
saving me the trouble
the day you said you lied
the day you said goodbye
for the very last time, so did i
Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 7:59 PM UTC
now that i
cannot
i long so
desperately
to hear that
story you've
told me
a million times
once more
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 8:15 PM UTC
every man is a drop
of salt water
in the great body
of humanity
(land is far too sure
too solid
to ever be equated
to any man)
we simply move
with the moon
and burn
the unguarded eyes
of those who dare
come near
(there are creatures below
our surface that one dare
not try and discover
they may eat you alive)
but oh, how beautiful we are
from a distance
tranquil and endless
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 9:06 PM UTC
the worst that could happen?!
a meteor could hit the earth
at this very moment
and stop me dead in my tracks
speaking of tracks
two trains could collide
right now and cause
mass destruction
really, it's just a terribly inconvenient time
i couldn't possibly-
the black plague,
the bird flu,
terrorists,
poltergeists!
so there really is no reason for me to
go over there and interrupt him
with so many dangers lurking about-
nausea
heart burn
indigestion
upset stomach
and oh, god strike me
dead if i must even imagine
what else!
the four horsemen
of the apocalypse
could decide to
come upon us right now,
and you want me
to go up to him and
say hello?!
honestly, you really must
get your priorities in order.
(but the very worst that could happen?
he could say no.)
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 8:21 PM UTC
an expulsion
of sadness
an admission
that maybe
just maybe
everything
is not as
okay
as i said
it was
maybe
just maybe
it is not
okay
at all
Nov 26, 2013
Nov 26, 2013 at 8:08 PM UTC
there once was a girl
who wanted to fly
so she put on
her prettiest white dress
a left her mother a note
to say
that she loved her and that today
she was finally going to fly away
(salt water blurred the ink
into a bit unreadable mess
but it's the thought
that counts)
she could have taken the
subway
but the sky was such a
******* beautiful
shade of blue
(what an
absolutely
positively
wonderful
day to fly
she thought)
so she soaked it all in
and dreamed
of the red running out
(mother would be
so very unhappy
about her
pretty white dress)
as she said a
few final farewells
to the city
that never knew her name
the traffic was loud
but her thoughts were louder
and with each flight of steps
she rose
above the chatter
finally
finally finally
she saw the door
the entrance to freedom
to the roof
(the exit)
they tried to stop her
with their loud megaphones
(still her thoughts were louder)
she heard from below
the sounds of wails and moans
but she was above it all
the skyline was before her
the possibilities
that ******* beautiful
shade of blue
held for her
so tempting
and then
with eyes closed
she flew
(fell)
the rush
freedom
the wait
agony
she wanted
nothing more
than she and
the pavement
to collide
two seconds later
as the engines cried
without bang
nor whimper
the little girl
died
(oh, how her mother cried
over that pretty red dress)
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 12:17 PM UTC