I want to strip you bare,
Expose your core,
And watch our souls meld together.

Home.

A single word can fill you
With a thousand feelings
And memories.
Some are warm, happy,
Fuzzy feelings that you enjoy;
Others... not so much.
Yelling, pain, insults;
Dysfunction, blame, guilt.
But "family" is not always
The same thing as *home.**
Sometimes home is a person,
Who makes you feel loved.
They make you feel wanted
And secure in their embrace.
They give you those happy, fuzzy
Feelings and light thoughts
On your dark days.
And you, my friend...
You are home to me.

It was....yet it shall never be.
How is that possible?
It is when you have an imagination like mine.
Days full of adventure.
Nights full of passion.
In the arms of the perfect lover.
You.

The way you look at me,
A look of pure love.
The way you touch me,
So soft it makes me shiver.
I've never felt this way before.
My soul mate.
You.

I can be in your arms,
any time I wish it.
Just close my eyes and there we are,
Entwined....lips touching lips.
Warm breath on my neck.
My own perfect world.
You.

Reality, a thief that steals my dreams.
Reminding me that I'm alone.
Whispering that your heart is hers.
Your eyes, full of love, see only her face.
Her smile is only for you.
You.

Doesn't matter.  
I'll just find a quiet moment.
I'll close my eyes.
There we'll be....laughing, loving.
It is, though it shall never be.
You're mine...for as long as I want it.
You.

They ask me about my poetry
Done with ease
So easily
Like stars align; astrology
Coded into chemistry
It's basically
Biology
Like a limb;
A part of me
Crackling with energy
Electrical and synergy
Working together like a team
My heart and mind combined
To find that sign, in time
Make poetry!

I'm young.
I'm scarred.
I'm traumatized.
So why do I want *that?

I forgot my jacket upstairs in the law office that bears my last name on the wall
It's a fancy building, so I need the elevator operator to take me up
'Are you Mr. Maladi's daughter?' he asks
No, actually. I'm Mr. Bradley's daughter
It takes a second before the pieces connect
'I'm so sorry'
He hugs me, teary-eyes
'I loved the man, he was such a good guy,' he nods

It's been over four years

My dad always said to make friends with the people who support a building
He said you never know where they've been
And that too often they're taken for granted, when they're always there when you need them

And today I saw the effects of this
My dad living the way he taught me

I have never been prouder to be his daughter

The train window swallows mansions and fields and rivers and box-like houses as if all are mere stick figures

There are tears pressed behind my eyes, and they desperately want to jump from the red rims of my eyelids and end it all

End it all

The water pressure in my head has reached a point where the measurements start to break down, thoughts tossed turbulently into darkness and suddenly breathing water seems better than breathing air

My headphones crackle with music as I gaze at my fellow passengers in disbelief- the woman next to me is looking at shoes

Doesn't she get it? Don't they get it? How futile it all is? How beautifully endlessly painful and deadly life is?
I choke on rain when I close my eyes

The train roars forward in mechanical bliss with its destruction of the scenery outside

A boy is sitting across from me now. He leans closer and I catch death in his dark, empty eyes.
'And you thought you were going to be okay' he sneers.
My tears and water soaked brain are paralyzed into ice.
'My dear' he confides, wrapping me in his bitter, syrupy touch.
You will never be okay.*

He laughs, melting through the screeching train car
And my iced-over tears break
I know now he waits patiently on the train's tracks
And I fervently hope I will never meet him there