I think of all the different lives
I have lived over the years
And I mourn the losses
of all the personalities
                 friendships
                 memories
                 that I will never get back.

Time is cruel like that;
it just comes barreling through and
takes
takes
takes.

But I suppose what comes along with the taking,
is also the giving
of new faces
    new blood
    new love
    new heartache.

I cannot say that I wouldn’t have it any other way,
For I think we can all agree
that we aren’t given much of a choice,
otherwise.

I catch myself looking at him
and wondering if there is still a glimmer
of hope for us in his eyes.

It is your birthday
and my heart hurts,
I want to kiss you
but I know it’s forbidden now.

When I was a girl
I would always go for the most marvelous
flowers at the local garden to bring home,

And my mother would say to me:
“No, those won’t last. You must get the ones that have yet to bloom, in time they will become even more beautiful.”

I believe this could have been a metaphor,
for us
If only you’d have let it.

I can’t do this;
Exist with you, not existing with me.

Stay.
Stay.
Stay.

Golden Strands
of hair glisten
like honey

Soft, solace scent
of an old home

Goose feather pillows
Blue veins disguised
inside cautious hands

Embrace me, radiate warmth
And with the utmost careful placement
of glasses on her nightstand

once again.

In a dream,
the millipede pleads to me
for his freedom.

                                     I look the other way
                                     and as quickly as he
                                     emerged from the dirt

                                                                                 He is gone.

A new beginning;
A do over.

                                    Time does not stand still
                                    But instead moves rather slowly
                                    and sneaks right up on you.

                                                                  
                                                                    I blink and everything is changing;
                                                                    In a hundred, wonderful different
                                                                    shades of blue.

I am forever
plagued by noisy yard work
when trying to sleep.


                                        Skipping class again
                                        because of anxiety
                                        I don't need more sleep.


                                                                
                                                                         It is my birthday
                                                                         I am crying in the car
                                                                         27 looks real rough.