They came to me in
a febrile dream.
Whispered screams and
malformed limbs.
They wanted to drag
me to the hell they
came from, but I fought,
and got well.

I don’t know how to proceed
It seems you don’t need
My attention
Except the answers to
Basic questions like
Are you hungry?
To you, that’s care —
And I need to be fed, but
I don’t dare
Tell you what I’m hungry for

My educated, thoughtful, reasoned, and empassioned analysis
Is of no interest
No wonder I feel stupid
Telling you

My buxom, breathless, bothered, bewildered body
Trembles unseen underneath
Clothes worn like a shroud
Because you say goodnight
And walk out

Oh, the devastation! All you did was kiss me and close the door gently, leaving me alone in the dark. Others would **** for the things I have. You told me that.

Maybe it’s all in my head
Maybe your love isn’t dead
Maybe the spell took hold
Maybe when all is told
We will sit and look at the sea
Understanding each other and
Smiling - finally.

Sixteen and *** on the body and soul
As banal a story as any, boys will be boys after all.  But I am a girl —

It’s 1983, he’s nineteen and drives a mean yellow sports car my father could see from afar as he pulled into the driveway way before the three I was expecting - it was lunchtime and I was “sick”
The woodstove fires were out so he came home to stoke -

Ah but this young man
Had already taken care of
That - and when the door opened!
My father’s tight face
Mortified me

Body and soul wrung dry for three decades or more.

They still make those ******* cars.
I just saw one drive down the street
Of my midlife crisis afternoon walk.
My father gone a long time now -
my mother just last week touting as her inheritance! What she shamed me
So very thoroughly for
Then, so
I won’t ask her if she remembers.

My father turned swiftly and fled,
letting my mother fail to handle it.
Boys will be boys.
Girls mustn’t be *****.
He was always proud of me.
She still tells me how I’m doing it wrong, but I just laugh because I know
She doesn’t even own
A *******.

souls encrypted in
nighttime sun now revealing
black pages that burned

Hands reach out
digits intertwining
flicking upon the mind's
dark consoles of thought
desperately imploring
searching for answers
needing to express and explore
wanting a hands-on approach
to the endless dilemmas of life

Capture me
with your voice
let it to my ears
instil a thrill
let it wash my soul
with its timbre
let its strength
calm my fears
in its tone I hear
all that a voice could
ever contain
the sun’s warmth
the soul’s wash
of the gentle rain
capture me with your voice
hold me
enthrall me, captivate me
thrill me now