tea
for the unfinished assignments
for the time of the month
for the boy who douses you with salt
for trying to feel loved

wine
for your tired eyes
for your loneliness, a butterfly
beating its wings on your ribs,
for trying to grasp
what freedom is.

my darling,
don't you love to heal?
don't you love to escape?

I turn on the music
Light up
Lean back and close my eyes
And I leave here

I swim and surf through the sea of sound
That is my life
My life inside my life
The constant friend and lover

From the rhythm and energy
That makes my old bones move in time
To the exquisite pain that can make me weep
There is music for all moods and occasions

Old loves are remembered through songs
There is music we find
That even helps us through grief
And, of course
Music is at every celebration
But most of all
It feeds my soul

                                     By Phil Roberts

You're supposed to get up every day and walk with purpose
Smile and greet others
Push your cheeks up until it hurts
Laugh at the right times and be quiet when you're told
Be kind
Apologize
Make sure everyone knows they're important because you're not sure you are
And as a woman you must be gentle and loving because women never lose their temper, never think ill of somebody else, never let that all important façade drop
You're pretty sick of it
because you feel like you're dying
but no one takes it seriously because you're an overemotional female
So it's probably just hormones (***, you know) and you'll get over it in a few days
Yes, you're fine, you say when asked because you know they don't really want to know
what goes on inside your pretty, smiling head

Psychologists say
writing poetry help to heal broken heart
Therefore I write

I prove them wrong

Because the more I write
the more I am reminded of you
and it breaks my heart
into dust