You, you, you
Wanna be in love with you
Gonna fall in love with you
If it’s the only thing I do.

You, you, you
Need to wear my wedding ring
If you’d do that special thing
I would feel just like a king

You, you, you
I’m in love with you, you, you
Tell me that you love me too
And make all my dreams come true
                  ljm

it was boiling water them days

plates and cutlery dipped

hands minded in industrial gloves

pink rubber

scalding dishcloths and sinks

down on knees blindly scrubbing floors

through insults and watery fears

we are a team , shouted regularly

while we took the comments seriously cowed with blisters from cold water on the other hand

a world of extremes

or maybe the contradictions

were dreamed

Somewhere
a kitchen light still glows
on an immense orange cat
waiting to scour both dog bowls
for leftovers
that have yet to appear
after even a single meal.
Twilight throwing
lavender shadows
across the cramped
polaroid drenched kitchen
where you slow danced
to something acoustic
before saying your first goodbye
on a bare concrete balcony
studded with cigarette ash
and stars.

The broken glass lies on the floor
in front of me.
It has shattered into many pieces,
just as my spirit has done so
many times before.  
I have struggled for a long time
to find my place in this world,
but, one thing I have never questioned,
is my identity.

Beneath the surface,
God has bestowed upon me the
greatest beauty of all – my heart.
Not in its physical form,
but, in its spiritual one,
is what defines my identity.  
Simply known as character,
it is how one is seen
leading their life,
each and every day.  

With pride, my identity
can shine onto others,
as an example of how
a heart can be so loving,
so caring, so understanding,
so compassionate, so kind.  
All of these traits are
what comprise my identity.

Forever, I will personify these traits,
like one who proudly wears
a badge of courage;
a badge to show that
I have weathered the
toughest of battles,
and have come out
stronger than ever .  
Along the way,
with each challenge presented,
not once has my identity faltered.  

As I pick up the pieces
of the broken glass,
I place them all together
on the surface in front of me.  
The cracked glass outline
reminds me of my many failures;
however, I look past the
fissures that are apparent on the surface,
and see my identity staring back at me.  
It is complete, and reflective,
not fragmented and dull.  

Even though certain facets
of my life remain unclear to me now,
my identity is something
that I am most certain of.
With pride, I carry it with
me every day; with honor,
I display it courageously.  

Vicki A. Zinn

March 12, 2013

From the tender age of twelve

I've found refuge in a bookshelf

In a story I would delve,

To be totally myself.


From pride to prejudice

All I found was bliss,

That I forgot all the facades

Of their judgemental shades.



I was the "different" kid

In the crowd I hid,

Escaping the reality in fiction

I lived in the story-depiction.


I was a misfit

For I was built

Of

A soul so shattered

A heart bitterly battered

Thoughts totally tattered

Words wisely clattered;


Tagged as the "******"

I faked bravado

And each day

Until I found my way

And be completely okay

Did I say-

"I am me

and me being me

makes me happy

putting this into poetry

is my way of therapy,

for I choose to be free

in all my oddity,

for I choose to be free

in all my oddity"