Where did you go
Why won't you come back
It makes me sad
To think of all I lack
Perhaps it's silly
And you'll think me a fool
But I can't deny
That I'm still in love with you...

In a museum, or forgotten barn,
A small red twelve inch two wheeler
Hangs on invisible wires,
Or is covered in pigeon droppings and dust.
But Tannehill rode it once,
Like something in a dream.
He was too long-framed for it.
He controlled it, rounded the corner,
Pedalling hard down the sidewalk,
Across the street from our new house.
I gawked from the front yard:
He was a boy with his bike,
Like The ****** on T.V.
It was the first I learned to ride,
And the falls were magnificient,
On grass or asphalt.
Girls' bikes were easy,
One size fits all.
Then I learned to pedal
Beneath the cross bar of the big boys'.
Push the pedals,
Shift the midrift, and be gone.
Always from somewhere
To somewhere else,
Far from the soft front lawn.

I no longer walk the line
like Johnny Cash.
I was born into this world
bold and brash,
but I couldn't last.

I'm knocked down,
and unwilling to stand.
A ten count has begun,
and it's almost the end.

"Nine" the referee yells.
Time stands still.
It's the final countdown,
and my blood has began to spill.

I am myself whole,

no longer a fraction
of a second away
from fading

imagining an ocean
to stop my heart from
hammering

through my ribs,
bursting through
my chest

birthing something
unknown, unwanted
and caged

I am a timid bird but
nervous wings still
flutter, still fly

I am reaching into
the darkness,
arms outstretched,
eager, fearlessly
facing the future,

running blind

she had seen an entity
emerge from the river at five
spoken to another being at thirteen
some things are visible
only to her eyes

she was adored and loved
standing beautifully
her cigarettes were lucky
to be held by her fingers

an invisible book
was on top of her head
she had a beautiful voice
and she dressed well

people fled to countries
but the mad woman
fled to different realms