I named her Hazel, after a tree, or a nut, or eyes I had yet to see.  It's ironic now.  Children run up to ask, "what color are Hazel's eyes? " "well they're Hazel". Her personal color, something special and all on its own.  In truth hazel is just a color,  just a tree known for overpriced nuts that taste good in chocolate.  But I wasn't worried of any of that.  I was searching for a feeling.  Hazel.  Warm as a breezy summer day.  Hazel, as comforting as a spot by the fireplace in winter.  Hazel,  with a bright smile who waves at all the strangers who forgot that a new friend is just a "hi my name is.." away,  "Hazel."
Old women always smile and say,  "that was my aunts name"... "you don't hear that name much anymore".
Sentimental and nostalgic, I wonder where that name takes them.
For me,  it just feels like home.

I like to imagine myself soft as down. All cream and pastel.
Much like a mama bird I would pluck the softest parts of me to build a safe place for you to rest.
Too stubborn to unburden myself of youthful idealism, but running short on feathers I find myself a fragile bundle of sharp edges.
I feel if I am not careful I could poke you, right in the eye.
But in this nest I've built for you,  crafted from the most tender, and pure parts of myself,  I find I can lay at ease.
Shielded from any storm or draft I take comfort in the soft wisps of your hair on by cheek.
Love is nothing new to me, but I have found there's no place like home. 
There was a time when I thought I knew how to carry that feeling with me. A time when nothing weighed heavy on my back. 
I have claws just as any other bird, but I am but a common wren.
For you I would give the world.  Even knowing one day,  you must leave our nest, to spread new plumage of your own.

Darkness Lingers Everywhere, in a smile, bared teeth.
It is cloaked in friendliness; a hand across the small of your back.
It presses forward with the guise of social incognizance,
A simple misunderstanding; It’s not a big deal.
Take your hands off me!
Darkness treads on broken promises and crashes through boundaries.
Darkness has a face, but it’s neither here or there.
He’s everywhere.
There’s a rage inside of me, that threatens to tear through my skin.
Anger will be my salvation.
Anger will turn a quivering hand into a fist.
My body speaks when words fail me.
Clenched tight.  Flailing widely.
Who dares to enter these hallowed grounds?
And act like they own the place.

You told me I was beautiful
Then you told me I was a *****
You told me you could change me
That you would leave me begging for more
You told me that you loved me
And left me lying on the floor

I told myself you were wrong
I told myself I was strong
It wasn’t me
It was you all along
But doubt is a heavy burden
You left me very uncertain
Behind closed curtains
I believed you when you said
No one else would want me

If you loved me
How could it hurt so much?
I told you to do it
You’d convinced me my life wasn’t worth enough
I was careless
So you hit me,
I was hopeless
So you broke me,
I won’t forgive you
But I choose to forgive myself

A feeling in the wrong place
Can only corrupt and erode
Like a meandering stream,
That leaves a scar.
Our lives do not flow so easy
There is cleavage,
But there is also fracture
Eradict and unpredictable.
We are not all prized gems
We are impure and complicated
Not so easily identified by the eye.
Closer to quartz and feldspar than diamonds,
Yet we long to posess
a promise of value
and so we pull this image close
We  reach out for order,
Hardness and grace
But it was not the stream alone that carved the canyons
There was a grand collapse,
And the stream was left to carry that debri away.

I lay my head upon my mother’s chest
And for a moment, I’m a little girl again.

I remember what it’s like for the whole world to stop
For worries to melt away like candle wax
My jagged edges smoothed by a warm embrace
It’s a feeling I’ve rarely felt since

Maiden, Mother, Crone
I watch the wheel of fortune spin
Daughter, Mother, Grandmother
Me, Myself, I
The passing of time I there observe in all its stages
In our faces
Growing old,
To be young,
The illusion dissipates when I look into the eyes of those who I love most
In those luminous pools I see more than a person, I see a mirror
I see my connectedness and yet
There’s an immense need to defend what is mine

I wish I could stay here
Just for a little while longer
But we are all just passing through
I can only hope, this selfish desire
Is justified

Every mind is a portal
to a different reality
and love, is a lot like window shopping
peering into the heart of someone,
you can never really touch.
If every mind is a portal...
then kissing you was like crashing head on into a mirror
fragile delusions
falling around me,
is that a shooting star?!
Take my hand.
You're composed of parts my eyes can not conceive
but I would walk blind,
if you would guide me.