whispers of sea
where the cold storm
gathers in the grey
sky, and the waves
pound the shore
running back
pushing down
arching like
fiery cats,
the ache of the storm
a tearful cloud
the song of
a poem.

She’s crying on the stairs again
it may be the loneliness
I don’t ever ask
I know she won’t answer

She keeps to herself these days
sleep her sanctuary
I don’t often wake her
I think she needs the rest

Most days I feel guilty
she needs more than I give
and I often ponder
how much longer will she live

Her mom left on August 8th
Heaven called her home again
she weeps in silence
in the still of night, alone again

I can’t help but wonder
what words do escape
as her lips gentle quiver
and tears soak her face

Like water she comes and go's.

Like water, she moves in and out of cracks.

Like water she flows.

Like water she's manipulative.

Like water she's strong.

But she could eventually evaporate.

I am in a prison
cells overflowing with rage
penetrating so deep
within me
now

This anger is all consuming
energy is so draining
blood is boiling
over it
peaks

Spewing, sputtering hate and evil
eyes wide open vessels
popping the top
hat off
kilter

Cannot stop to see straight
jacket is on now
And then I
cry out
loud