talk talk talk in circles
i'm
watching you look over bits of the past
and rewrite
as your trying to tell your story...
only  
i'm not quiet fallowing the st st stuttered symbolism's the jagged
concepts you split in five different directions
your diction  just as repetitious as the first word you read
In every new sentence.
you were never very good at reading aloud.
or even
reading to the end of a sentence,
you generally cut outside concepts in to different pieces
so as to insert your own forced bits of puzzle into
the frames of which
they were never intended.
every script written in my ugly hand or set to hard copy
mocked and sifted like
sand in your angry fist.
shifting like the earth beneath my feet,
when I lost my self or
perhaps looking back now
When I was lifted.

Perspective is a funny thing
It changes everything -
I hated about being weak and scared and faithless,
about not being what brave was
to the bravest
women that have graced my existence.
I was watching you in new frames
but through old lenses,
everything contingent on me
being the source of conflict-ion .
infliction
I existed for your
protection,
for your acceptance
directionless when every light I had ever known
went out in a karmic gust of wind.
I am braver now than I have ever seen you be.
I believe i'm braver now
then you have ever been.
for the only real weakness I have held in me
for the weakness in my chest I have no shame
you can blame me,if you wish, some times you must forget
I am Human.
I am Human.
that is my weakness
I am HUMANE
When I watch a cataclysm like our story end in so much pain..
Every rewrite rendering more blood.
I end it.
Hand trembling over foreign trigger as I lift it,
I will cry later
when i'm alone.
For everybody's sake.
Now..
I am done.

I prayed,
a silent prayer  
my eyes open and heavy on him,
settling like dust on his edges
dancing like the soft sputtering kisses
of the candle light
beside our bed.

Feeling safe in the shadows and light
that play all along him,
across the celestial lay of his skin
and parade behind his eyes
I prayed.

A silent prayer to empty skies
to the soundless indifferent void
To the absents of god
That I have always known
I prayed.

A silent prayer deep behind my personal truths,
Just in case i'm wrong
just in case he is  right
silently in still of night
I prayed
"thank you, for him.

for the carousal of his mind
and fire in his chocolate eyes,
for the warmth in his smile.
Thank you for his devotion
and his sharp sincerity.  

thank you for the solar system
rest
upon my arm,
enigmatic, polarized and stunning.
grin induced heart beat thrumming,

thank you

for my goodnight and loving morning.
For the way he takes my hand
at night when he kneels to pray.

For all of this
If you exist
I need to say
I thank you."

I am a lighthouse ,
my fire burning behind my eyes
from beneath  
all my
hollow walls
made of sinew
and flesh made
of masks and
raised scar tissues  
on foundation of brittle,
shaking bones.
vibrating harshly against every storm,

someone beautiful told me
I am more then the compilation of all these scars
and not to worry so closely over my broken bits
I am more than the sum of my parts.
I am no ship wreck
I am no cold stone
or simple sharp edge
I am no longer afraid of the marks
carved into my flesh
while scooping up my shattered sense
of self image

broken mirrors
become the stepping stones
to torn down walls
and open spaces
to the waiting arms
of vacancy
of lonely
of alone
and eventually
of a new home
just needed time in my own skin
and to be brave enough
to look in the mirror ,
here is to
better self images,
Still
after all this renovation
I am
still the
lighthouse
still waiting for you to come home.