I stand accused.
Accused of a crime I most surely committed.
A crime of the most heinous issue.
More appalling than a sickness transmitted.
The accuser claims I have destroyed my family,
because of my crime.

What did I do?

What was my crime?

I spoke out when I was molested.
Molested by my dear, innocent cousin,
who could not possibly have done wrong.
I was molested.

I did not point fingers
or name names at first.
I simply said "I will stay in a hotel this visit."
But you cannot remain vague with family.
Family has a way of enticing your confessions.
They demand to know your sins.

I stand accused.
Not of a crime, but of a plot.
A plot to destroy my family with evil thoughts.
I am a trickster whose pleas are refused.
I stand accused
of being molested
in a world that says "Get over it."
and a family that screams "Who should trust you?!"

I was molested,
and I stand accused.
Help from Lady Justice refused.

I found perfection.
I found it in you.
You of all things!
For years I swore to never have children.
I feared that I was too much a child myself.
I still do.
But I found perfection in listening
to your coos and even your cries.
Every time you smile your toothless smile
is the sweetest of surprises
and all the while
I can't stop the bubbling laughter from within.
You have me wrapped so fondly around each of your precious fingers.
My son, you are the moon and stars.
The glorious break of dawn cannot compare
to the shine in your ravenous eyes-
hungry to take in the curious world around you.
I hope you'll never lose that hunger.
My son, just as you are, I feel complete.

A full life of living would be death when
compared to my life now as your mom.
I will forever love you with no end.

One day it won't matter how hard I try to be
the best thing that ever happened to you.
One day, inevitably,
I'll drown in the puddles of sweat in my shoes.

squish, squish
Plodding down the hallway to your room
I'll knock softly in case you're in a mood.
How did I get here?

A sappy, pathetic thing, standing outside your door,
ready to **** myself if you're mad again.
I stand with sweaty palms outstretched when you open the door.
Your face... I should have known better then.

A hug. That was all I wanted.
You could have kept your frown.
One hit and I was down, drowned.
The door slams shut again.

I can't smell dinner on the stove anymore.
The blood fills my nose and drips to the floor.

But I can smell the gasoline that I later poured out...


On the floor where we once cuddled all night,
on the couch that we bought from your friend you text sometimes,
on the wall where I had meant to hang pictures of us smiling,
outside your door that you carried me through once, as a bride.

I don't want to drown anymore.
Just like we matched once,
one match is all it took tonight.
One match to erase you forever.

I took the dog that you liked to kick.
We still drive your truck I lost my virginity in.
We found ourselves a nice little beach house somewhere
because God it feels so good to swim.

As we trot along this cobbled path,
passing leaves of green and buds mid-bloom,
life seems right; the darkness of night at bay with all its gloom.
Our carriage of white portrays rescue from God's wrath.
The sun is radiant and the birds rejoice in its warmth.
We're passing through a town, large in size;
as joyously as the singing birds, we smile on the people.
In passing a church, we're in awe of the steeple.
So tall is the pinnacle, white-washed and nice,
we smile bigger seeing the people as on our side.
But as the sun sets in the west and the coldness of night
draw nearer in haste, the beautiful people change.
Once friendly and welcoming, humorous and kind, now strange,
hateful, and bitter they seem. Their faces, weary and affright,
are thin and pale where fullness once was.
We look on the once busy streets, now one huddled mass.
What happened to the happy, beautiful people?
A sudden crash and we search for the source. Where is the steeple?
Alas! In the road lies a cross, once high in the sky, now in ash.
What people would profane such a symbol of God's love?
By the red glow of the setting sun, our driver quickens our pace.
Searching for a road to travel out of this wretched town;
every turn brings us back to their haunting frowns.
Where smiles once were, worry and fear etch into our faces.
The people watch as we become frantic. They're emotionless.
God, where are you?
At one's suggestion we cry out in prayer. God, answer us!
Then I see myself in the crowd and begin to fuss.
How am I there when I am here? Then, you are there too.
One by one our company appears in the crowd. Panicked,
we become angry. Confused,
we become angry with God. Pointing our fingers in the sky,
we shout curses at "God the Most High".
He's the one that led us, He made us come.
Our carriage has stopped and where an angel once sat driving,
a man turns to us; perfect teeth shone in his grin.
"My friends," the handsome stranger says, "It doesn't have to be."
What could he mean? Where is the angel? Who is he?
Knowing our thoughts, he coolly replies, scratching his chin,
"I am a friend and the angel has left you."
All gasp at this; some shriek in terror.
"Calm yourselves for I have good news!"
Some of us exchange glances but all is silent as he continues,
"God has left you but I can help you through this
evil town. Trust me to save you and it shall be done."
God has abandoned us? Do I believe this stranger's tale?
"Friends, if God was here, would you be a face in that mass?"
He made sense to us. We had been outcast.
"Listen to me, I love you and my plan will not fail."
Simultaneously we submitted to the stranger.
Lord forgive us for we know not what we do.
Lightning cracked across the sky as the sun
disappeared, but where was the moon? The sky held none.
It was to be a full moon as far as we knew.
Then we realized with guilt in our hearts that like
the moon, we no longer reflected the Son.
God had never abandoned us; we left Him. And for what?
The beautiful stranger changed then in every appearance but
the sly grin that was plastered on his face. Satan.
And it was too late to run.
Our carriage disappeared and we fell in the dirt.
We tried to brush the dirt off but the filth remained.
Our white robes were now black tatters.
Besides our sobbing, silence ruled.
By tears our faces, once beautiful, were stained.
Though the night was cool, we were covered in sweat.
Satan was gone though his laugh did still linger;
it was the thunder that followed the lightning's accusing finger.
As the sky mocked us, we huddled together and were met
by the townspeople who slowly came over to our party.
The people we'd seen that looked like us had
all gone, leaving no trace. We all knew the truth though none said.
That we'd become them, weary and pale from foot to head.
We were bitter, but more afraid than mad.
How miserable we became!
Tightly packed we shivered until dawn.
The sun rose and with it the birds.
Without feeling it, our faces grew bright as the green grass.
All of us appeared as beautiful as the town and its mass;
no one spoke in our party, at a loss for words.
Yes, the town's beauty was restored but we knew it to be fake.
This had been these people's lives, acting joyous to please
the fork-tongued stranger who once tricked them as well.
This was a town of lost children of God.
In it we now dwell.
Lost and afraid, this picturesque town only teased.
A white carriage rambled through the scenic town;
its riders laugh in each other's company but
would they continue through to their journey's end,
what awaits them in Heaven, the end that had awaited us?
Oh please! Don not be trapped by the beauty of Satan's town!
Though we wish to warn the unsuspecting strangers,
we are forced like the others to greet rather than warn of dangers.
Unable to control ourselves, we welcome them to our town.
Wanting to tour, they smile at us and awe at the steeple.
We smile back and look high at our beautiful steeple,
we the people.
Hurry and escape before the sun sets!
Rush into the Father's courts and repent for your present dawdle.
Do not linger here for we are rotting in hell.
They begin to leave and just in time too;
for the sun is setting but then so soon,
a rider points into the street and all is not well.
We are already changing into our true form.
Now I know they are trapped for they know we're dead.
It is no use to run but they cry out to God as we had.
I want to encourage them but instead
a rider notices his company appearing in the crowd.
Knowing all is lost, I want to cry; but what's this?
They do not curse God. More fervently than before, they pray.
Satan does not appear in their angel's place.
Finding their way, they leave this godforsaken town.
Though my people are lost, we now have hope.
If they can find God's grace then maybe we can too.
Slowly I feel my strength regaining and I feel anew.
My friends notice the change as I plan to elope.
God save us please.
Most of our company has repented by now;
some chose self pity instead.
God, hide us from the devil as we escape his town. By starlight
we travel on the streets; praying for God's rescue until we come
out of the town and there by the gate,
a beautiful carriage awaits.
God guide us to your home; we promise we'll go straight there.
Though we enjoy nature's beauty, we'll not
go off course to seek it.
For You, oh Lord, have taught
us to not love the world, so we may not become it.

-CM

Morning sickness is a pain.
Morning sickness makes it hard to gain
healthy weight for my baby boy.
My best friend is made of porcelain.
Joy...

You are sweet and kind.
I'm so lucky you're mine.
You're silly, goofy, and strange,
but no one makes me laugh like you can.
You're honest, genuine-
which is the best relationship to be in.
I am so proud to call you mine.
Most days, I feel I don't deserve your time.
But you love me nonetheless,
and I really must say you're the best.
Not just the best person or friend,
not just the best lover or future husband.
What really has me smiling right now
is knowing you'll be the best father, no doubt.
And I really hope and pray it's true,
that maybe, just maybe,
someday our son will grow to be just like you.
I love you, Alex.
            -Carolyne

My grandfather died the other day.
A man I called "papa"-
his breath was stolen away.
A man of few words but
many smiles when you earned them.
In the 18 years I knew him
I only heard "I love you" sometimes.
Sometimes was enough though
because what he said he meant
He was father to my mom and aunt
when they had none.
He was my grandfather
and now he's gone.

I loved him, though I said it so few times.
I wish I had said it more,
but I think he knew in his mind.

My mom and aunt called him superman,
and that he was to everyone.
He was always ready to lend a hand,
especially when it came to fixing cars.

He loved his wife, my Nana.
I never heard him say it, but I saw it.
The way he teased her and
glances he stole even after 45 years
said it all in the end.

I lost my Papa the other day,
but he's in heaven now
so it's okay.
He was loved and he will be missed,
but he's free of pain now
so we can only rejoice.

See you later, Papa.
                -Carolyne

I reached out and held your hand.
"Mom...I'm pregnant"
I felt your grip loosen,
and I was afraid to meet your eyes,
wide with shock, with tears glistened.

You stood across from me,
arms folded, ready for my big news.
"Dad...I'm pregnant"
Your gaze fell and you wouldn't speak.
We both knew it was too soon.

"Congratulations, Miss McNabb.
You're pregnant!"
I know it's true and yet it seems so unreal.
Baby Lost...
...And Baby Reborn.
I don't know how to feel.
Excited of course,
the obvious choice.
But also scared, and maybe paranoid.
My little Oliver Sparrow never made it
out of the womb-
taken too soon.
I tried to forget the pain
but pain is much too real to be waived.

There is a baby inside of me.
I have seen it on the black and white screen.
I couldn't help the laughter that bubbled,
when I saw its little hiccups and kicks,
the way it seemed to dance inside.
I believe in my baby, I can't resist.
My baby is strong, that much I know,
just from seeing its dance-
almost like a restlessness to be free.
My baby is loved-
more loved than I could ever hope to be,
and yet I wish I had more, more, more love to give.

My baby is here, and real,
and so is my desire to be the best mommy.

Baby Lost...
...And Baby Reborn

I stopped writing-
a poet at a loss for words.

You did this to me.
Yes, you, reading this.
Your beauty left me awestruck
with no relief.
Please...
Please you must believe
how unashamedly I've fallen abrupt
into the snares of love.
I haven't fallen nearly as graceful
as your features fair when you
tilt your head to the side.
My love is just as intense though,
as your focused eyes upon the words I write.

It is true,
from the first time your gaze
stumbled
on my humble scribblings of rhyme,
of times gone by,
my heart has swelled and shivered,
knowing that I have your attention.
But then I don't really have it,
do I?
You don't really see me,
watching you from behind the text.

My love, forgive me.
I make such abrasive claims
of love and loyalty,
but they fall flat, you see-
like the screen you read my words from (I clench the taut strings of my heart as I look up at your illuminated face).
I'm stuck here and that
is what tortures my soul, already sore.

You can never be mine
while I'm trapped in between
these lines,
these rhymes.

I'm trying to find a way out.
Until I do,
just know this:
Everything I write is for you-
so I can see you once more.
I don't know how,
but I will find a way out.

I love the way you smile
when my poems have a happy end.
Then I just feel so awful when
I make you cry because my poems soured
like my bitter heart that hates its apparent destiny.

I'm stuck here.
But the hope of seeing your face again,
returning to read my latest work,
that is what keeps me going without fear
until the end.

I'll find a way out
and then you'll see me for real.
The poet trapped in the book,
waiting for you to look and see
between the lines.
You'll see me-
the poet my beloved reader has, and will
set free.

Scotland, my homeland,
oh! how I long to be on your
green shores, where grey-blue water
hides the nessie,
and fairies in the glen roam free.
Scotland, my homeland,
in years to come I shall journey
to your green shores
once more,
finally.

Sleeping together.
Naps together.
Breakfast in bed naked.
Leaving little notes everywhere.
Good memories,
bad memories faded.

Getting sick together and
eating chicken noodle soup.
Laughing together until we cry then,
crying together too.
Finding our happy place
where the bad memories faded.

Cuddling in a dark room
where only "us" exists.
Knowing each day that you
are mine and I will always
be yours and this,
this makes the bad things fade.

Moving in with you
is my dream come true.

This screenshot of you, I always see:
waving over your shoulder,
smiling at me.
I've got this fear in my mind like,
what will you do when I
run out of things to say?
Will you stay?

Will you stay when I have nothing to say or do,
will you stay awhile,
just until I think of a cheesey joke
to make you smile?

When nights get longer
will holding me asleep get older?
When I forget another happy birthday,
will you stay?

Just tell me what you need and
God, I pray I can
give you everything.
Anything your heart desires.
Just tell me why you look so tired.

This screenshot of you, I always see:
waving over your shoulder,
smiling at...

There's a fear in my mind that
one day you'll wake up and find
what you're looking for in somebody else.

But you're smiling at me...

No matter the tears or
swearing or fears, I know
at the end of the day,
you're walking in through that door
and I know what you'll say,

.......And I love you too.

"The mind in its natural state can be compared to the sky, covered by layers of cloud which hide its true nature."
- Kalu Rinpoche

Roses are red.
Violets are violet.
The trouble with that,
roses aren't always red.
They can be white
or black, blue, yellow,
pink, orange, you name it.
Roses aren't always red.
And we shouldn't expect them to be.
I made that mistake, you know.
I only expected red roses.
But then a beautiful violet rose found me.
I held it close despite the
thorns that pricked my side.
I can't explain the remorse I feel
when I think about all the colorful roses
I must have overlooked because of pride.
And how long my own violet rose
must have been waiting, silent...

Roses are red.
And violets are violet.
Yes they can be,
but don't forget
all the wonderful colors in between.

You only get one body,
and that body defines what you can do.
You only get one body
and oh how I wish they were tradeable too.
There's a ninety percent chance
I'd trade with you.
Allow me to clarify that
I am not sick in the least.
Just try to understand my pain, please.

The doctors told me that I have
Fibromyalgia- a musculoskeletal pain
with no cure, only temporary escapes.
They also say my skin tissue lacks
the ability to properly connect-
leaving my skin mottled and easily bruised.
I have scholiosis.
My spine is susceptible to twists
and contractions-
pinching the nerves between each vertebrae.
As I write this,
my neck... the bones are deteriorating.

I have started my adventure now
and I am finding joy wherever I can
because I know
I am destined to be crippled, my friend.

Not only has the doctor
given me a clock.
He has offered me a challenge.
At least I know what I'm in for,
and I accept.

Love me like only you can.
Your love is a taste I crave.
Kisses melting softly on my tongue,
while I melt softly in your arms.
Sleeping softly in your warmth and calm
until morning light comes.
In the sun's fresh rays spread upon our bed,
we'll love again like no one can,
my dearest and most beloved friend,
slipping softly into infinity.

I told you that I was born to fly.
You said "Let me be your wings."

I told you that I'm broken inside.
You said "Come to me for healing."

I told you that my walls are built too high.
You said "Let me climb over, please."

I told you that I'm lost and I cry.
You said "Let me dry your tears and guide you from suffering."

I told you that I hate being surprised.
You said "Let me prove my love won't change for anything."

I told you that I need you in my life.
You said "Let me be your everything."

I told you that I love you.
You said "Together and forever in love,
let us be."

Everyone watched as you slipped into a coma.
Quietly, subtley, your mind exited the room of
white walls, white sheets, white everything.
Why are hospitals always white inside?
It makes me jealous more than anything.

We all watched your consciousness recede.
But then, I wasn't there, was I?
You wouldn't know, I think.
You wrote me a note to say goodbye.
A final note... Why?

You lost so much blood, sweetie.
Just how many pills did you need?!
Was the knife not enough,
you had to overdose as well?
I miss you so much.

I would always hold you when you cried.
It's my fault I left.
I kissed you goodbye while you slept.
I still love you.
Forgive me!
Come back to me, my run-away friend.

I jammed my gun on purpose-
I just needed you to notice me, and how I hurt.

I knew the knife was too dull-
I just wanted to feel beautiful.

I knew the pills would only make me sick-
I just wanted someone to help me through all this ****.

I knew the rope wasn't strong enough-
I just wanted to feel stronger for once.

I knew you would give up on me one day-
I just had one last thing to say:

I'm unjamming my gun because I'm finally unhinged.
I'm going to sharpen my knife to cut like your words.
I'm looking for the right meds to swallow and hold it in.
I'm buying stronger rope because I'm tired of this curse.

Before my chair tips over, I'll say this once:
I loved you.
I would die for you.
That's exactly what I plan to do.
You'll never have to hear me cry or console me again.
*Goodbye, my run-away friend.

You are the sigh in my heart
and the smile in my eyes,
the song in my voice...
and the reason my true love cries.
Why do I seek a beauty by choice-
a beauty I do not truly love?
You are the improperly sewn seam
in my ****** heart.

Opera was the first
emo music.
.....
what??
The feelings, the passion, insatiable thirst,
depict the soul's greatest longings
and the things that make it sick.
But the best opera I have heard
is the desperate cry for things
lost,
stolen,
griefs beyond the heart's capacity-
a vessel, on violent waves, tossed.
Opera is an art with reckless abandon.
Opera: My hat's off to you.

A love like ours,
sweet and memorable,
was written in the stars.
But as time goes on,
do we become unstable?
Written in the stars...
What happens then
if we forget how to read?
Another love story
tossed into the nearest waste bin.

Sometimes I ask myself
"Why am I still here?"
but then you take my hand,
I can almost almost taste your smile,
so sweet, my dear.

Everything I hold dear
is in my hand,
in my hair,
the smell of you lingers
and I have to sigh through the tears.

You have stolen my heart,
enraptured my soul,
and devoured me whole.
My mind is tethered yet torn apart
when I think of you and what you've done to me.

Just you wait, my love.
Not much longer, someday,
when I have taken your oath and sealed it
I'll steal you away swiftly.
Swiftly we'll fly across oceans, my dove.

Take my hand,
hold my head to your heart
and remind me that it's mine.
Each beat whispers as soft as desert sand
*"I love you and we'll never be apart."

A thousand words cannot describe
the way you made me feel inside.
A thousand and one tears I could have cried
the moment you smiled and sighed
I do.
I promise to always be by your side.
In sickness and health, through death and the next life,
whenever you need me, I'll be more than happy to oblige.
No matter of rich or poor or where we reside,
wherever you want to go I'll take you there; I'll be your guide.

I vow myself entirely to you.
No words ring more clear or true
than those three bold words: I love you.

You make me the happiest person alive
and I vow, until the day I die,
you will never regret the day you said

*I do.

Red is the fire within
that burns my insides,
and the flames lick the wounds on my soul.
I feel the blood boiling under my skin.

Orange is the soft glow
that warms my walls,
luminating from the candle in my window.
I count the flickers that lull me to sleep.

Yellow reminds me of the flowers rising
from my father's garden back home-
rising higher, higher, so high.
Rising to meet the sun in spring.

Green...
The land I call home,
where my heart longs to be
and my ancestors wait for me.

Blue is the enchanting color
that engulfs the pupils staring my way.
Yours are the eyes lovely
that keep me anchored here longer.

Indigo was the sky I wrote this under.
Have you noticed my pattern yet?
Surely the title gave it away,
so you must know there is yet one more color.

To conclude, there is violet.
However my life is not over, neither is my rainbow.
I have many more memories to make,
people to meet and help me grow,
chances to take...
So until then, violet shall wait-
and I can't wait to write it.

Someday I will finish my rainbow.
Someday I will find my violet.

Some friends are only meant to be
temporary.
Now that doesn't mean they weren't real.
The time, the laughs, the memories-
they were all real!

Some friends blow in with the wind
and stay for a while.
All you can do is laugh, help each other grow, and then
let them go at the next tide
when a new wind comes for them.

Don't hold them back like birds in a cage.
Release them!
Would you want a friend to ensnare you
and with an iron grasp, hold you selfishly enraged?

Some friends are temporary,
but the happiness they bring
can last forever in your memories.

One.
Two..
Three...
Four....

....Almost fourteen days in a row
I got to see your kind face.

Almost every hour
we would spend together-
and you should know
that I never grow tired of your face.
In your company
is my favorite place to be.

Five.....
Six......
Seven.......
Eight........

....­....Almost eighteen hours have passed now
and I miss being with you.
It is a pain I cannot recount
and a coldness I cannot weather.

In a world I can no longer trust,
I have found my sanctuary
in your longing embrace.
Your kiss is something my body craves
and I have no desire to be free
from this drug-like craze.

The way your lips shape into a genuine smile
is something even angels would praise,
only to be outdone by
the song in my heart that accompanies
the sound of your name.

Merely the thought of you conjures up
fantasies of love
and dreams come true.
I hear your knock upon my door
and I know it is you.

My heart dances and I leap from my seat with joy!

Come to me, my love!
Come to me!
Soon you will be in my arms again.

Come to me, love

in three...
two..
one.

It's time to go back.
I know I must, before it's too late, return
through the portal of blue and black.
The chasm at the bottom of the sea
is where the portal is,
and my people wait for me.
Will they welcome me in
or will they chase me back out
when they see what this world has done to me-
how it's changed me within?

I hurt myself today...
Johnny Cash, he summed it up so well.
I hurt myself today
to see if I can still feel
anything other than sadness when
I fail.

What have I become?
Failure.
Everywhere, everything I do turns to ash.
I hurt myself today, my son.
You can ask Johnny Cash yourself up there
in heaven where you are.

I still think about the day I lost you.
Waking up in a pool of blood,
it wasn't long before I realized.
Then the tears began
and reason ended too.
It was a miscarriage, my son.

You were my second chance.
Now you've been ripped away from me.
What do I have left? Where can I stand?

I hurt myself today.
Missing you is all I feel.
Johnny Cash said it all,
And knew pain all too well.

It hurts so much to live
without my baby here.
Please forgive...
Please forgive me but
I have to let you go.
It's the only way I can survive.
I miss you, I need you.
But I have to live for you too.

I hurt myself today,
but I'm going to get better, baby,
I promise you that.
Sleep sweetly, my love,
and I'll see you again someday.

       Love,
       Mommy

I lived in the highlands,
green as far as the eye could see.
I ran up and down the plush hills.
Oh how I soared!
The air was still,
the smell of dew hung in the mist
like a raised hand.

Running...running...
From what?
Nothing.

Running...just running...
Where to?
Nowhere.

That was the beauty of it.
That was the dream.
No one to stop me.
Nowhere to be.
Running-soaring through the still mist,
my dreads flying back behind me.

I could hear the bagpipes in the mist.
The solitary sound pierced through
and urged me to continue
on and on, in my aimless adventure.

Readers, the dream ended like this:
I was alone.
There was no lover waiting
on the other side of the mist.
I had found my peace in the land I call home.
Scotland.
This is where my forefathers roamed.
This is where, in my dreams, I soar alone.

One day I'll return to the highlands.
Scotland, my home.

Love can do impossible things.
It can take a train ride to Antarctica
or leave behind a parachute when you skydive
and survive.

Love can do impossible things.
It can go days without food
or water, or anything it needs,
and still be satisfied with just you.

Love can do impossible things.
It can forgive the awful people
who seek to abuse its true purpose,
then keep loving even the worst of those.

Love can do impossibly wonderful things.
It has tethered my soul to yours,
and your soul to mine, infinitely,
no matter what happens in life's course.

Love can do impossible things.
I believed I had no more love to give,
that passion had dried up in a desert,
but you gave the water for my love to live.

Love thrives in an impossible world.
It's always proving us wrong,
making the darkest days bright,
and like three birds,
reminding us everything will be alright.

*I love you, and we will be okay.

Dear Mom and Dad,
I can’t tell you how lost I’ve been.
My stories would make you cry,
and I can’t tell you why I’ve sunk this far.
God above as my witness,
I just can’t win this fight.

Pray for me, Mom and Dad.
Pray that I’ll be okay.
Can God hear me drowning?
Does He hear me when I cry
alone?
Pray for me.
Who am I?
I cannot see.
Just pray for me.

Dear Mom and Dad,
it’s been so many years.
Would you even know me?
Do you see me in the street?
You would have kept walking
for the smell would scare you away.

Pray for me, Mom and Dad.
Pray that I’ll make it there.
Heaven is so much higher
than from where I fell.
Do you think God heard
when my body hit the ground?
Pray for me, just pray for me.
I don’t deserve Heaven,
and I’m so ****** afraid of Hell.

Dear Mom and Dad,
God told me you cried for me.
Today you went to my grave
beneath the magnolia tree, to sing
“Happy Birthday” so miserably.
Dad, you held her in your arms
as she sank to her knees.

Dear Mom and Dad,
*It’s been so many years.

This I Promise You

When asked how I feel,
I know right away.
My feelings are real,
And they will not sway.
I know not of the past,
That has wounded you so,
But time moves fast,
And I want you to know.
The way my heart beats,
When I look in your eyes.
I will not show defeat,
Nor will I disguise.
The words that I say,
Are pure and just.
I promise to stay,
This you can trust.
Your kiss on my lips,
So tender and sweet.
With your hands on my hips,
I begin to feel the heat.

A fever burns deep in my soul,
While light begins to fill the hole.
The darkness and despair that once plagued my mind,
I thought we’d be forever intertwined.
Then you appeared straight out of the blue,
I wish I knew then but I had no clue.
The thought of you is my first of the day,
You turn me away from a world of grey.
I want you to know I’ll always be here,
So please my dear, you have nothing to fear.
When darkness takes root and you hear the thunder,
I won’t let the world turn you asunder.
I promise to be there in the days of joy,
As well as the days that seek to destroy.
The happiness you have that I love to see,
Why can’t the world just let you be?
Your dreams of the future that you hold so dear,
I only wish to help you adhere.
I will not be in the way of the life that you want,
But I will be the one to help you on a jaunt.
I am behind you completely in everything you do,
Even if it means starting anew.
You are worth the world and I hope that you see,
I will do anything to help you be free.
Free of the pain that you wear on your heart,
I will be there if you want a new start.
I promise you that you’ll never be alone,
And I’ll show you more love than you’ve ever known.
I won’t leave or abuse you in any way,
But I’ll spend each moment making your day.
While time is needed to think this through,
I’ll start by saying I bid you adieu.
But before I go there is something you should know,
I won’t try to go.
If you hand me your heart, I’ll cherish it more,
You’re someone special I already adore.
When you dream, I hope you feel wanted,
And start every new day feeling undaunted.
Sweet dreams, my dear, for the night is ending,
Just remember my feelings will always be unbending.

"Together"
This word brings two people into one
perfect sound.
The way the word rolls off my tongue,
it sends chills up my spine and back down.

"Us" and "we"
only make the music better.
These melodious sounds urge me to sing.
The way "us" and "we" dance together
is a fairy tale scene.

And finally "forever"
completes the play.
But it isnt over!
No, far from it. You see we simply
lived "us" and "we",
"together" and "forever",
happily ever after.

It was a beautiful day for a picnic.
The sky was the deepest blue
with a bright yellow sun hiding too-
Hiding behind fluffy white clouds, wasnt it?
You were stunning. Radiant.
Your auburn hair lit up in the sun
and made the lush grass pale in comparison.
You were dressed in the purest white
with not a speck of dirt to be seen.
It was impossible not to stare
as you lounged on the checkered blanket by my side.
Oh how I longed to hold you
and stroke your lovely hair!
To kiss your lips and cheek
and clutch you close to my heart.
It was a perfect day for a picnic,
but you didnt have to spend it with me.
I understand it's been three years
since you buried me under our tree.
Live your life in radiance and sunlight,
my dear.
Be free.

Like a dandelion blowing in the wind,
I'm letting go of every sin
that I have ever held against you.
I realize that this may not mean much
to someone who
walked out of my life forever.
You didnt say goodbye to me
or your family.
No, you walked out forever.
But the longer I hate you,
the longer I have to think about you.
I'm through!


Like a dandelion blowing in the wind,
I'm letting go of every sin
that I ever held against you.
In the wind I'll blow too
because I'm letting go of you.

Back into the circus,
Back into the ring.
Just another spectacle,
Another freak they can make sing.
I'll do my flips and tricks,
I'll sing, dance, juggle flaming sticks.
The audience laughs and cheers.
If one jeers, boos- no one can hear.
The thunderous applause,
Whistles of approval,
All of the oohs and ahhs
Please me and tickle my ears.
Welcome to my carnival.
Here in this tent I put on a show.
It is a mirage to please all who go.
It is the most convincing act-
A performance no one can look past.
They can't see the real me
Past the freak they want me to be.
Here in my circus,
Here in the ring.
Ring around the rosy,
Throw the ashes around like sickness.
Welcome to my carnival
Where I'm just another freak who can sing.
Ring around the rosy circus tent
Until in ashes it all falls down.

Good morning, darling.
What have you been up to?
Do you still want to talk to me?
Was I just not good enough
the last time...
Did I stick around too long?
And now you know me too well.

I know, I know
it's time to pick up the pieces and run but
I'm scared, I'm so scared.
I don't really know what's out there.
You don't even see
how miserable I'll be!
But now I have to pick up the pieces and run.

Did my affections scare you?
Did I kiss your face too much?
Was it just too painful when I
said your name-
so sweet on my lips...

I know, I know
It's time to pick up the pieces and run but
I'm scared, I'm so scared.
Someone tell me I can face what's out there!
Look into my eyes and see
how miserable I'll be.

How miserable I'll be
that now I have to
pick up these shattered,
scattered
pieces
and run.

White orchids, daffodils,
a handful of violet petals
on your grave.
My love I brought all your favorites today.
They match the sky so well,
not like when my world fell apart.
It came crashing in a storm
just like your car that day.
My love, I brought you flowers to say,
it’s over, I’m done
trying to survive alone.
We were okay but now my sky
is forever grey.
So collide with me,
ride with me to
the forever beyond.
Call my name, take my hand,
take me to Never Again Land.
Steal my breath away-
I don’t want it anymore.
My love, I brought you flowers today.
See the flowers on your grave.
I brought you flowers,
*you’ll see.

There is a beauty in madness.
You don't believe me?
There is nothing more beautiful than this:
that someone would feel so deeply
so passionately for one thing,
whether it be a toxic love
or a blinding hatred.
Us humans-feeble and corrupt
have a power underestimated.
The power to feel with the intensity
of a fire-consumed forest,
or a wave that splits the sea.
We have a weapon inside of us.

There is a beauty in madness.
Has it touched you yet?
Have you loved or hated with your best?
Did you feel that power reciprocated
as every molecule coursed in your veins?
There is a beauty in madness.
Will you restrain it
or let it overtake your feeble self?

A broken down Chevy-
Doesn’t that sound like a country song?
My broken down Chevy
Is where my life started and I began to belong.

That little pickup stayed true to its name.
It could pick up and take me anywhere,
Or we could park in a field and I could write,
To me it was all the same.

Being behind its leather wheel
Was a freedom I’ll forever cherish.
Eighteen with nowhere to be
Except driving my Chevy, every joy I could feel.

When I lost my job
I gained an eviction.
But I still had my Chevy
And I had its bed to sleep in.

There was no work in my small town.
I knew I had to leave,
Just my Chevy and me.
We traveled for days to the biggest city we found.

By the time we arrived
My Chevy had begun to sputter,
It shook, it moaned, it stopped.
And there on the highway, my Chevy died.

I knew this day would come-
My Chevy was a ’57.
But it carried me hundreds of miles
To the city in which my new life had begun.

A broken down Chevy-
Doesn’t that sound like a country song?
My broken down Chevy
Is where my life started and I began to belong.

I left it there on the highway.
With no job and only pocket change
I couldn’t keep my beloved Chevy
By towing it anyway.

Now I’m twenty-five
And the head of a publishing company.
I married an artist who always supported me.
Today he waited at home with a surprise.

My broken down Chevy,
Fully restored and brought back to life,
Was in the driveway
With a note taped to the window with the key.

“I believe this is yours
And may I say she’s beautiful!
I found your Chevy on the side of the highway.
Gosh I think it’s been six or seven years!”

“My father was always handy with cars
And he taught me his trade.
I towed your Chevy and meant to sell it
Once I had fixed it up to shine like stars.”

“As I was cleaning the compartments out
I found your old journal
Full of letters you wrote to yourself
And bible verses, all about perseverance, no doubt.”

“Your story inspired me.
It honestly rocked me to my core.
I had lost all hope in myself and the world.
I was fighting cancer, you see.”

“I read your journal every day, every page.
And the more I read, the more I believed
In those verses you treasured so.
I continued restoring your truck, and last year I got saved.”

“My cancer was gone, seemingly overnight.
The doctors couldn’t believe it!
And honestly
Neither could I!”

“I thank God every day
For the story He gave you,
And I thank Him
Because you broke down on that highway.”

“Now I’m returning this Chevy to you.
She shines like a diamond and runs like a river.
I hope you can forgive me but I am keeping your journal-
My granddaughter is fighting cancer now too.”

“Please pray for her and I’ll keep you in my prayers always.
Thank you for being the person you are.
Goodbye and thank you again, my friend.
Like your broken down Chevy,
We’ve been made new; we’re eternally saved!”

Nothing but starlight
could shed light on our predicament.
Two souls desperate for flesh,
needing a warm body to hold.

I believe the stars watched us that night.
They watched our bodies tangle and when
we had our fill and felt satisfied, refreshed,
they shuddered to the end of the passionate night- we were so cold.

Having what we wanted felt so right.
But then it was had and we felt empty again.
I'll remember the night our eager bodies meshed,
the starlight beaming on your form- exquisite to behold.

It was not a violent affair, not even in slight.
Rather it was a soft and tender pining,
a slow drink of the strongest wine, requiring the need to suppress.
The intoxication never fully took hold.

We stayed under the stars until first sign of daylight.
It was there in that meadow then
we parted ways and thought nothing less
of each other or our own selves, truth be told.

Nothing but starlight
could shed light on our predicament.
Two souls desperate for flesh,
needing a warm body to hold.

Did anyone ever
Dare the sky to be a different
Shade of blue, or
Did we just assume it
Will change on its own
So why bother?
Are we so comfortable
With change happening on its own?

Dare the sky to change.
It will, I swear.
You can never make a difference
If all you do
Is wait for things to be different.

Change can happen
If you dare.

Uncertainty.
I cannot be sure of anything,
Except uncertainty.
Uncertainty, certainly.

Eternity.
The thing that lasts forever,
But only seems to exist in the future.
Semi-Eternity.
Living internally.

Serenity.
You can only
Know it truly
If you have lived chaotically,
This price-tagged serenity.

Uncertainty.
When does eternity start?
Have I paid in full for my serenity?
Uncertainty.

Must I live this eternity
With uncertainty in my heart,
Always chasing the serenity
That my chaotic life has bought?
              -CM