they called me crazy
for refusing to pick flowers
for saving spiders from the kitchen
and for talking to birds rather than humans

they called me crazy
for clawing at my wrists
for eating my own words
and for tearing out my hair for allowing myself to feel

nothing ever satisfies
when you worry about the endless amount
of "they"
and "them"
and what "they" think

nothing ever satisfies
when "they" meet your demons
and "they" make a home
in your own ******* ribs

A sad snapshot of a
thought: we
could have never

met. how close were
we?
to picture

life
without our
love;

opposite of
a
selfie.

Here she lies still
Breaking the box spring
Twisting words around
Her father's wedding ring

"Dying," she whispers
Her hand on her chest
Prepares for the evening
Of eternal unrest

There's a creak from the closet
There's a crash from outside
A boneyard war being waged
A corpse trying to hide

"It's never enough,"
That's what we'll assume
The dead go on living
And their dreams are exhumed

Bust through the coffin lid
Break your own heart
The dead and the dying
Are only six feet apart

In my arms, you belong
but you are so far away.
Tell me: what would you do
if all I asked of you
was to stay.

A crisp, clear autumn day.

Looking up, I see!
A blue sky.
Wow, the autumn sky is so blue and high!

Why is the autumn sky so high that I can see the stars in the day?

Temperatures go low,
Crisp clear autumn air,
No monsoon clouds cry rain anywhere.

Nighttime sky so clear,
Cosmic explosions everywhere.

It's a wonderful time of the year.
Blues, reds, browns, greens seen everywhere.

Looking up, I see,
The high blue autumn sky.

© 2013 Ronald J Chapman All Rights Reserved.