We stood together as brothers in arms.
Our side was small, both in stature and numbers.
Fighting daily battles, we knew the war was lost.
The tattered battlefield was a living room carpet.
We received no weapons, but our enemy did.
Armed with wooden spoons and open palms.
We retaliated with tears and with silent obedience.
The yelling in the house echoed like explosions.
In that grey one-story house, my siblings and I.
We stood together as brothers in arms.

Why do I growl when I'm upset?
Grrr I want to hold you
Grrr I need your touch
Grrr please help me
Maybe I growl because the only part of me that is allowed to feel pain is the Beast.
Maybe the Beast lurks behind my tongue,
wanting to scream, but only able to scare.
I pity this Beast. It does not bite, and it cannot bark.
Its sole connection to the world is a defensive, angry, growl.

I soak up rays of warmth from the sun
as it covers my limbs like a blanket.
I am calm, content, and curious.
My curiosity is unbridled,
and my creativity is bolstered
by the satisfaction I feel.
I wish to grow and reach new heights.
This freedom comes from the sun,
as my leaves photosynthesize its warmth into energy.
My stem reaches taller, and new leaves unfurl.
I create a new version of myself with every sunny day.

The tide waves goodbye as I drive back to the mountains of my home.
Though there is no snow at their shallow peaks,
I miss those fall colors which raised me to wonder.
I wonder where the mountains meet the sea.
I wonder if those who only see one or the other
will ever truly understand the beauty this earth provides.
The tide waved goodbye,
and then the leaves on the mountain trees waved hello again.

I love her, but her mind grows weak.
The doctors say she may have a month, maybe a week.
Together, we tell stories. Me, more than her.
The ones that we laugh at and half remember.
I don’t know what I’ll do the day that she dies.
“Together forever” really meant the rest of our lives.
I hope I’ll see her in the great everafter.
But until then, I sit with her and treasure her laughter.

“Hello” is a bad word that sits at the tip of her tongue.
Like a snake’s venom, it is always there, always ready.
It lies in wait, hoping for the next unsuspecting victim.
The pain is preceded by hope. A glimmer of “Maybe.”
Maybe when those fangs sink into me, it won’t hurt me.
Maybe the sweet anaconda embrace is a hug this time.
Maybe this is the last time her hissed hello will bite me.

Anger lingers here.
Like a ghost,
She haunts these hallways.

Anger lingers here.
Like a specter,
She hides in the shadows.

Anger lingers here.
Like a poltergeist,
She possesses my limbs.

Anger lingers here.
Like a phantom,
She screams in the dead of night.

Anger lingers here.
Like a wraith,
She whispers in the silence.

Anger lingers here.
Like a shade,
She wanders aimlessly.

Anger lingers here.
Like a spirit.
She must be set free.