Hey, mom,
Aren’t the stars gorgeous tonight?
They remind of the days when
You turned off my light.
Every night, I remember,
You would tuck me into bed
Plug in my night light and
Plant a kiss on my head.

Wow, mom…
Wasn’t it such a long time ago
When my baby sister and I
Came in the house from the snow?
We were always dripping wet,
You toweled us down and hugged us tight.
Hot cocoa was always ready for us,
The temperature always just right.

So, mom,
Please know we forgive you and dad
It’s not your fault we didn’t
Have everything others had.
The divorce was a good thing,
We know that, trust me,
It’s just that it was scary
Not knowing what would be.

Hey, mom?
Thank you for bringing us home.
For giving us a house
And free space to roam.
These plains and skies are spacious
The air we breathe is clean,
I’m grateful for the life we have.
Thanks for everything.

And, mom…
Do you remember move-in day?
After we unpacked my things,
I told you that you didn’t need to stay…
The truth is, mom, I cried like a kid,
When you pulled out of the parking lot.
All the courage that I thought I had,
Well, I guess it was lost.

Really, mom,
I hope you know how much I love you.
I want you know that I appreciate
All the little things you do.
I want to take this time to apologize,
For all the hurt that I’ve brought to you.
I know raising me wasn’t the easiest,
So I’m sorry for all that I’ve put you through.

Lastly, mom,
I’m glad that you found our stepdad.
He’s always been here,
Through the happy and sad.
Yes, we all complain about our mixed family,
The house might not be clean…
But in reality, we all love each other.
What else do we really need?


Hey, mom,
It’s okay. Please stop crying…
This is a happy moment.
I love you so much! I’m not lying!
Thank you for all that you’ve given me.
Thank you for believing in me.
We’ve lived and learned together,
That’s all we really need.

for all the times your words cloaked my fear
like a fresh coat of snow in Nov
on a morning when school had been canceled
and you made magic mini waffles
and let me pretend my hot chocolate was coffee

this is where I start to tell you that you're beautiful
that I'll never forget how they laid themselves at our doorstep
wanting to be your husband
wishing they were my father
how their diamonds and pearls
never quite shined bright enough for you
how the memory of my father
was sunlight
starlight
moonlight
first star you saw at night
how you wished
for him
and on him
for me...

this is where I remind you that you're special
that every kid thinks there Mom is great
but many adults forfeit that thought at this age

this is where I confess
I may still have the spirit of my adolescent innocence
when it comes to you
I just might still believe you're superwoman
that you can fly
see through walls
and hear me from miles away

this is where I say I love you
for making all my dreams come true
through the sacrifice of your life

this is where I thank you
for putting me first
for being an example
for  not letting the world have me
keeping my influence good
and leading me in the right direction

this is where I say I'm sorry
that I can't make life any easier yet
that your bills aren't in my name
that the debt of raising a family by yourself
is one too big for my budget

this is where I promise
that I will bring you flowers
before I am Married
After I am a Mom
and for the rest of my life
not for any reason except
they're the first thing earth ever offered me
that made me as happy as your smile
planted deeply in your southern roots
I dont know how you stay so gentle in this rigid world
I only know you are worth more then any words

This is where I try to  stop writing
because words will never really be good enough
its hard to describe the beauty of another realm
when you only know this one
my language is limited here
I dont know the notes to sing
the melody of your love
keeps me alive
keeps me dancing
while the whole world is still

This is where I say I love you Mom
from the deepest parts of me
forever and a day
love your baby girl ;-)
xoxo

What is wrong?
You don't sing the normal song.
Your tune is so off,
the words all seem so wrong.
You're losing your mind?
You're falling apart?
This can't be out of the blue.
Just when did this start?
What don't you understand?
I can't help, if I don't know.
                                                           ­           What is wrong?
                                                          ­                      I'm trying to explain,
                                                        ­                   and I don't know why,
                                                            ­           but I feel so very vain,
                                                           ­                what was the song,
                                                           ­            I used to sing?
                                                           ­             I'm trying so hard.
                                                           ­            I'm on shattered glass.
                                                          ­          I'm holding these rocks,
                                                          ­       no, boulders of the past.
                                                           ­       I cry out to you,
                                                            ­    but what could you do?
                                                             ­       I'm so scared.
                                                         ­               I'm not strong.
What is wrong?
Please tell me what's wrong?
Why are you scared?
I know, you're not strong.
I don't know how to save you.
I'm no hero, you know.
I'm trying so hard to help you,
but I'm stuck in the front row.
We all love you,
just please,
tell us just what is it you need?
So that we can help you,
and heal as you bleed.
                                                          ­ What is wrong?
                                                          ­     I've changed.
                                                        ­          I'm running from my life.
                                                           ­                I've lost that 'optimistic' me.
                                                             ­           Now who am I left to be?
                                                        Have I fallen like an angel?
                                                          ­           Or am I still on earth?
                                                          ­              Why is pain so painful?
                                                        ­                   Just when did I disperse?
                                                       ­                 Where am I,
                                                              ­        if i'm not here?
                                                            Somehow I just disappear?
                                                      ­            I'm unstable.
                                                       ­                  Save me.
                                                             ­   Save me.
                                                             ­        Save me.
                                                             ­         I plead.
                                                          ­    Tell me the answer I really need.
What    is    wrong-                                      with me?

I just want someone to care.
To notice, when I'm not there.
To stay by my side.
To let me cry.
I don't want to be judged.
I just want to be loved.
I don't care how far,
I don't care if you've receded,
I just want to know
that I am needed.
It's not creepy.
Certainly not.
It's just odd,
to read what's been thought.
I love the imaginary,
who exists.
I love the birds,
and bees.
I love the sky,
and seas.
I'm waiting.
I'm watching.
Watching the world.
Thinking about it,
I've come to notice.
You help me even now.
Because I don't know who you are,
I spend so much time thinking,
wondering,
contemplating elatedly,
to the point I don't even think,
about..
the world anymore.

All I care about it this beautiful,
wondrous,
ponderous,
distraction of mine.
And this image in my mind,
it may not be you,
but I may know some day.
This love is true.
This love is so much.
I don't even know what to do.
This love of mine,
I await.
I will wait.
I'm waiting.
I'm watching.
Watching the world.
The world will pass me by,
and in the end..
I will have you,
and hold your hand.
The collected dust,
will tell a story.

I.

I held her hand and tried
to keep my voice from shaking as I
whispered to her my love.

She squeezed mine in return,
smiled that sweet smile of hers, and
said she felt the same.

She traced the jawline covered in fat
but for once I felt beautiful,
her hands were in my hair and her
lips were so so close to mine.

Then she kissed me in the dark
so no one could see.

II.

I told her who I was
and she loved me anyway.

Even though sometimes she had a
girlfriend, and other times just a capsule
of spiky-haired affection.

She loved me in my binder and in
my bra, with my ******* and my briefs,
she said it didn't matter.

But she kissed me in the dark
so her mother wouldn't see.

III.

We were both at a party,
but from different social classes.

We both wound up in a quiet room,
and I wanted him to notice me.

He started talking and I let my mind wander;
talking made it seem real, as if maybe, by some force
of the world, we could actually be together.

He smiled enough for me to know
it was because of me, and he let his hands
brush mine for a minute.

And in the dim glow from the pary,
our reflections came nearer and nearer on the
glass doors giving way to the milky snow outside,
and as snow fell gently down to earth
my heart melted from the joy I felt.

Then he kissed me in the dark
so his friends wouldn't see.

IV.

Yes I know you love me,
and you make it clear your care,
but when you hide me away from the people in your life
I feel as if I shouldn't be there.

Yes you've whispered happiness,
and assured me of my beauty,
but when you ignore me when you're out in public,
is it because you're ashamed of me?

He hurt you with words
He neglected you
He cheated you
I was there
There to mend you
To help pick up your pieces
To listen to everyone word you spoke
And even after that
You are still with him
You will still marry him
I guess he won

He used to lie all the time to me
and I would see the truth under it all
He used to watch as I would fall apart
and from the start it was the way we were
I was blind to his beautiful lies
and he was blind to my painful cries

He used to lie and enchante me
But I would always see
I closed my eyes
I never asked myself why
not even when I would cry

I was captured wrapped up in your lie
Begging you to never say goodbye
tight in your clutch
In some kind of a rush to find my soulmate
To prove that this was great
to prove this was fate

And now I’m lying in the bed I made
Covered in mistakes I’m laying next to you
wondering what should I do?
wait to get caught like you used to

It’s a silent burden I carry
Knowing you may never forgive me

She heard that he’s a poet
and wondered if he would write a poem
about her.

A wave of her
shoulder length strands of pleasure
should flag down nearly any man
with an ounce of testosterone.
She wondered if she had a poem in her hair.

She spoke a few soft words
layered with one of her smiles,
the kind most guys adore
because they don’t know if it means
to come closer or to leave her alone.
Perhaps a poem rested in her smile.

If she had cleavage like Jayne Mansfield
surely he would
form lines about her in his mind
and feel compelled to tell the world
how she captured his lust.
She wished for ******* with a poem in her cleavage.

She touched him.
He seemed open to her arm around his waist.
A poet felt like any other man.
She pressed closer;
perhaps he sensed a poem
in the warmth of her lean figure.

Later in bed,
he stayed close, their legs entangled
unlike anything she could remember.
She wondered if there had been a poem
in her *****.

She wished she smoked
and noticed that he didn’t.
Perhaps if they shared a cigarette
he would be enticed by the drift of the smoke from her lips.
Was there a poem in her sensual exhaling?

He seems so Hemingway,
mysterious, yet open to each moment.
Her mind played his movements
like a video tape recorder.
She wondered if she should write a poem about him?
Was there a poem in this experience?