I haven't once said,
what I've screamed
1,000 times.

"Oooo" my mother exclaims
stretching her body over the drivers wheel to peer down the steep *****
That touches the highway edge

The ground lifts and ducks
like the incline of
a dragon's long tail

As if a creature the size of two cities
had found itself a resting place here- falling asleep civilizations ago
and as it slept, the grasses
crept their way over its scales

Small pulses of purple and white flowers scatter themselves among
the tall arching stems
of wheat and grass as we drive further. These are the culprits who draw my mother's turned gaze.

My eyes, however, sweep once more
from tail to peak of the sleeping
dragon mountain view
and I allow myself to imagine
the low hanging clouds are the result of
steam filled exhales.

If you consider me a threat,
maybe reconsider-
what it is you're
trying to protect.

I call upon my brother,
but he does not hear my plea.

So I call upon my sister—
to find that neither does she.

So I write a little note,
to myself and to my soul,
on parchment not quite yet turned yellow,

with the thought that maybe,
once it does,
I will remember to remind myself—
to care for those a bit younger.

*******, coward.
Worse than a ******* lion.

Sweet little promises—
let the dogs remind you
where your ***** is.

Write me an obituary
and come to my memorial,
so we can say goodbye,
to every piece of me,
that ever once,
was wonderful.

Kiss the cold cheeks,
of everything I used to be—
the ways I used to believe,
the things I used to see.

Then you can come,
and stand beside me,
as I cry these tears again,
for every dream inside of me,
that will never live again.