You are the snowflake
I want to feel on my face.

The snowman,
whose smile I create
with my words

- dimples.

Reeds tickle
from the edges of stems
- moving fingertips

which you hear
from my chapped lips

- commitment.

My top hat
full of thick liquid.

It looks like the sun
dazzled itself to nausea,
through the window of
desperate fingerprints
- to my precious
black, top hat.

I can feel
under my body, the ***** marks
people left before
me, when grunting and
******* and crying.

The ***** at the reception,
filled crosswords and smoked
two at a time,
told I will enjoy my time
at their guesthouse

- with teeth, that could
make dentists despise
their job.

In the closet, my clothes
dropped from the hanger
- guess they have given up.

I'm still considering,
using my precious
top hat.

Doctor,
mask with a long bird's beak
looking like a horn,
checks out

what's hidden under
the grotesque version of
scales, that colorful and
wiggly fishes own

- abscesses.

A green-eyed girl
face still frozen
from the horror of the plague.

Doctor takes a deep breath
coveres the patient,
who sometimes was called -

he can't say it
but still feels the first time
when she was on his
protective lap and she cried
like the world was too
big to handle in the first day.

Now, The Doctor
feels the world is
too cruel to handle

in their last days.

When mother and father
often create insults,
older brother joins the battle
knowing he would lose,

I close my eyes
slowly, like entering
a dream that
I can control
by it's length
and it's confusing images.

My bed, which sheets
tell the story of satisfactions,
turn to the warm mattress
on the beach in California.

Mother Earth
blows the breeze on my pale
hairy skin
– I shiver with pleasure.

Shouting turns to
laughing
from my friends
that I don't have or
neither will get.

Sand drains between
my toes, beach ball
bounces from my head
- I laugh with joy.

One of those
young, vulnerable people
could look at me
that particular way.

Hot breathing next
to my sensitive neck
followed by sloppy
tongue work – I moan
with excitement.

I open my eyes
slowly, like being born
again and I find out
the fight is still going on.

Brother's voice is lost
Mother shrieks
Father yells

- I cry with despair.

My husband

sitting on
the ledge of
heaven
or hell,

watching as the
shell of him
drinks warm Budweiser

and

is deaf
to our son's squeaks
of playing with
toy cars.

Daughter
draws a picture
of a restored home
full of colors and
fake smiles

that we show to our
neighbors.

I wish
his glassy-eyed stare
and hidden breakdowns

would've been

shot or stabbed
by the Vietnamese.

I'll pack our bags,
go to my mother
who smokes non-filtered
cigarettes and blows
the smoke to my tired face.

”What did I told you?
I knew he wasn't
strong, what a ******* mouse.”

Georgia and Matthew
eat melted strawberry
ice cream in the
disturbing silence

while I try not to create
psychotic thoughts.

Those eyes
that still see blood and
broken souls
- looking at
a black and white movie

should've been
torn apart
by the forks of hungry children.

The whip lands
on labyrinth of lines.

The shout, filled
with a hopeless prayer -
”jahve!”

The scream,
prelude of the charm
that death whispers.

Pharaoh takes
a bite
sweet grapes
satisfy
as much as
the queen's *******.