Words unspoken
Her heart is broken
Stubborn to quit  
Her love for him was far too great
She couldn't admit

I am just fine.
I am a son hiding my depression.
I'm a boy trying to making a good impression.  
I'm a friend acting like I'm fine.
I'm a teenager that's struggling.
I'm the dude sitting next to you.
I'm the one asking you to care.  
I'm your best friend hoping you'll be there.

She comes alive
At night,
Huge cracks in the earth
Becoming fissures
Letting off steam
The rumbling
Getting louder
As she begins to explode
From the deepest
Inner core
Out into space dust
Liquid fire
Splashing through
Licking the surface
Forging precious stones
And minerals
Scorching poison plants
And deadly insects
In its wake
Enough!
She cries
Lifting her fist
To the blackened
Skies
And here it comes
Into the black
The Northern Lights
Are out again
Blinding incandescence
Blazing through the canopy
Of stars and nebulas
Of supernovas
She has become
Her own stellar explosion

As the cosmos
Flies through
Her fingers
Hair streaming,
She throws back her head
***** in the air
Breathes the coolness
Of celestial magic
Into her cells
The call of life force
Clanging inside her,
The sound of galactic bells

The entire Milky Way
Seems to flow
in her bones
her blood stream is already
pulsing at the speed of light
comets speed up in her mind
as she dreams
of new possibilities
Her heart is a bolide
that is on its way
to explode

After so many years
Of just being
****** into someone else's
Vortex
So many years
just wanting to survive
That's it,
Say the stars..
Sweet Woman.
Pay heed.
It's your time to be
Alive
Sept 30 2015

Isn’t physically quick or agile.

Disappears in libraries.

Has been known to dissolve into the physical pages of books.

Is good at tucking herself into the stacks and retreating to reading nooks.

Blends in at coffee shops where her voice can be drowned out by the grinding and the steaming.

Can become indistinguishable in the dark of theatres, in the quiet shuffle of art galleries, the finger-snapping of poetry readings, the hum and jostle of the Tube.

Is indistinct. Adept at hiding in plain sight.

she forgot to write a poem that day,
and the day next
and the day next,
she forgot to write a poem that week,
and the week next
and the week next,
she forgot to write a poem that month,
and soon forgot that she had forgotten to write a poem,
she forgot all about words that rhymed
and titles
and tags
she forgot to write poems,
because she forgot to be sad.