They grow too quickly-
a mother says.
-much too quickly for my
back, my arms
my aching feet
they bolt right out the door,
I swear.
They only leave me prints
fingerprints that dance
on the walls of a second-hand
home
trickle down the windows
trickle down the mirrors,
the doors.
I can still hear their restless feet
race through its hallways,
up and down the stairs.
The rooms remember
how they laughed
how they were so small
Once
they could not even open the door.
I swear.
yesterday
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 4:06 AM UTC
does a spider always know
how to weave the web it weaves
religiously, each morning?
Do birds know what the phrase “to fly” means,
or do they go along with the wind
absent-mindedly mimicking fans?
these hands do the same
circling, reaching,
trying to weave something out of nothing –
I can’t remember
that feeling.
That feeling
when my fingers brush against the palms of your hands
do you know how to trace my lines, always?
you weave my body
softly in the dark
and I want to fly away
unravel me, oh wind
nip away these seams
I can’t see my skin
under all his –
I can’t remember…
tell me, please
why water always knows how
to bend the contour
of its being
against rough memory.
The dreams pooled smooth
in my mind.
He drew out
from the well within me
the sweetest drink
and now I am drowning.
Oh soul
stay close to me
my body has become
a stranger.
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 4:03 AM UTC
Little girl.
You wore your mother like
the warmest sweater
the sleeves were stretched
over your little hands.
She absorbed every color
the world chose to dip you in
but kept the inside blue
because it was your favorite.
Little girl, little girl
You drank your father like medicine
So bitter, yet necessary
I suppose
at least you never intended to overdose
on sticky pride
don’t contort your face so
pretend it is honey.
Little girl, little girl
You ate fiction like candy
And it didn’t matter if you had too much
the sugary pages could never give you cavities
but
you dreamed an awful lot
your young mind ****** on fantasy
but what bright eyes
little girl.
The day
you -
Paused.
To look
At the new face in your grandmother’s mirror
the day you discovered
the strings of mother were unravelling
had been unravelling
since the day you were born
since your first kiss
(it was sweeter than fiction. )
that you were running out
of medicine
out of time
to sneak written caramels
(now you have to stash them
behind your bedpost
because that’s where dreams lie)
to be little girl.
You notice you bear your father’s mouth, and smile
so you gaze and study for a while
this new woman
who is not
little girl
but rather Big
and Defined.
You smile once more
and rise like the red sun
and take a step out the door.
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 3:54 AM UTC
Sleep fall unto me
My eyes are wide
as the owl’s gaze
who stole the night? Who?
There is light outside
but the day feels heavy,
and I’d rather lock the door
before the sun starts roll call
But sleep is not mine to keep
Only to wear ********
till she slips off
and sinks back into the ground
where dormant hearts lie.
I’ve begged before , I’ve cried
But those dreams
So distant
Now
Simply are not mine.
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 3:50 AM UTC
little steps,
they bring me backward.
By little steps
the moments we absorb
slowly pad
to the back of my mind –
-nobody sees
the windows are blurry.
They tamper with the lock on the door like thieves.
But why?
It is so cold outside –
keep it closed.
I fear strangers –
they bloom everywhere (here and there)
And I want to stay home
forever.
The world’s name I have lost
the tongue is foreign to me.
What did I call you?
this heart has extra strings
why do I care?
And the mind deceives –
where did everyone go?
I thought I locked the door –
click.
little steps, they bring me backward
they bring me backward
home?
Oct 27, 2016
Oct 27, 2016 at 3:46 AM UTC
She looks in the mirror
At the age on her face
"I wonder what he thinks
of me this way?"
She considers her weight
and the pores on her skin
She thinks out loud
"I don't deserve him."
She picks apart
the woman he loves
Separating her worth
from all that she does
He looks in her eyes
and caresses her face
He sees it glowing with love
and full of grace
The lines on her face
he views with pride
Recounting the victories
each time they've been tried
The weight that she carries
is that of a mom
Nothing's too heavy
She just marches on
These bodies will perish
and mirrors offer no truth
True love abides
beyond the corridors of youth
No, she doesn't deserve me
Perhaps God can see
Conceivably, one day
I'll be as worthy as she
May 17, 2015
May 17, 2015 at 8:57 AM UTC
Like children
window-shop the boulevards of their minds
I sample memories, sweet and bitter.
sensations so fresh it stings.
The world is not around me.
Why do I have eyes?
I only see what is not there.
Like children
seek adventure down the avenues and alleys of dreams
I foresee happy endings
and unhappy endings
and possibilities,
numerous as the fine strums of a web
weaved during restless nights
Kiss me on the forehead like i am a child, Father,
My head hurts.
May 13, 2015
May 13, 2015 at 10:36 PM UTC