dear me,
this is you.
me.
get up.
the ground is your reward
it will hold you when
you are done
hold you with all force
you
are not done
put a silencing finger
to the singing
of  all fat ladies
this is not over
real in all finish lines
steal the sound  of the
metal ringing hanging in the air and
put back in the bell
one more round we go.

get up.
there are sunsets that need
to be signed off on
snowfalls that need your approval.
starry nights like sad
lovers who's beauty
has gone unnoticed in the glare
of television sets
they are looking for
volunteers to notice them
raise your hand
step forward
you will not be chastised
for staring some beauty some beauty
wants to be seen

get up.
as if the simple act of
standing has brought you closer
to the cosmos as you
have ever previously been.
as if all the stars you've seen
busy looking back
taking notes and keeping track
of which wishes need granting
they heard you ask for
strength
show them you havent wasted it.


..

s.d.

what the **** is going on

Weeks of silence
(my ears they bled)
Resurrected today
(back from the dead)

Inhaling each and every verse
Possessed by some enchanted curse
He draws, and lures, and pulls me in
I'm absolutely lost in him
The way his words they capture me
Lace through limbs
Enrapture me
Bleeding out his polished prose
For whom he writes, I'll never know
He speaks of shadows and black silhouettes
My bleeding heart is not dead yet
I close my eyes and grind my hips
His words they drip down off my lips
Cascading to my blushing *******
I pull them close and there they rest
Embracing every syllable
Tormented that I let him go
At least today he shared with me
A little piece of him to see

I never got the chance to say
Before I burned a bridge that day
Thank you for that seed you grew
And all the love for me you drew

All these lemons
But my lemonade stil tastes like ****