Life is as slick
as the sand in which
your hand slipped
and now you fall
sinking in it all,
wailing in a pain
for which you
are not to blame.

So, when you’re feeling
tense and full of doubt,
I can be your armchair.
You can put your arm there,
rest your head on me,
knowing that I really care.

I got two good ears
ready to listen to you my dear.
Yes, I’m here to hear
whatever you wish to reveal,
cause I am a comforter.

Clarity is a rarity,
clouds cleared
so, I can see
sunny shades
radiate before me,

and it only comes
with a good night’s sleep,
whilst eating healthy,
exercising, reading,
chatting, and thinking.

I saw hate scrawled
on rest stop walls.

I know how it is scratched in
the American skin
so deep that it has become the origin
of our country's identity,

but listen up closely
this isn't how it's supposed to be.

Cause you are as sweet
as the nectar from a tangerine;

As vibrant as the sounds of the tambourine,

though you let that corporate machine
destroy the music and taste of your being.

Mass media making a monstrosity of the populace,
turning crowd to this horribleness
that spits slanderous statements
of how and why we should hate other
men, women, and children,
how to see them as less than human,

but we are all sisters and brothers
in these struggles.

We suffer similar maladies,
falter and fail because of our shared
frailty and fallibility,
but I believe we have the ability
to be so much better.

I got forty-one exhausting years
of lessons in my rearview mirror,
some harsh, some painful,
some pleasant, some shameful,
but I don’t think that I am able
to overcome that education.

I’ve heard that steady drumbeat
pounding out a lot of doubt,
interlaced with the face of desire,
and in my love or lust I’ve
let my heart be hopefully inspired.

The curve of her jaw line,
the sweater slowly rolling over her flesh,
the breath that rises and falls beneath
her *******; her dreams and thoughts,
I long to hear, willing to pay any cost
to hold my dear near and listen,
just listen to what she wants to share,

and *** of course, sweet *******
after and before our delightful discourse.

But with each rejection I have become divorced
from expectations and any patience
with potential lovers.

With each observation, seeing how people
hurt each other, how they smother
or abandon, I find I am done with them.

Angry at myself and those women,
seeing them chose someone else
and falling victim to the despair
that I find there when they decide
they prefer the violent guy.

So, I take my lessons and eat them,
love can just leave me be,
cause I will not join or beat ‘em

Your face seems to be all I see
whenever I close my eyes.

why does he haunt me?
a ghost of love we never truly had,
how could I miss it?
You?
..him?

Memories flash through my head
like daggers to the chest.
Wounding me seemed to be the target
before our first encounter.
To gaze, unbothered,
at something so innocent
while envisioning
how to bring me to my knees.

did I love you? or did I love the idea
of you loving me?
I’ll never truly know
because you are a ghost
of my past.

and ghosts don’t answer questions.

I am women,
Thats why I dont walk alone
Listening through my headphones.

I am women,
So I button and check my shirt twice
To ensure i don't attract or entice.

I am women,
Sorry we can not be friends
For the boundaries may blur and extend.

I am a women,
Enjoying the art beautifying my face
I must be looking for men to taste.

I am a women,
If I appear bare as a natural,
You ask what's wrong or if I'm ill.

I am a women,
When I don't encourage and engage,
I must be odd or maybe strange.

I am a women,
And *** I say is what I like,
They tell me no that's also not right.

I am a women,
I bare child and bring new life,
Presumed I'm simply a stay at home wife.

I am a women,
Working hard climbing the ladder,
I hear my biological clock really matters.

I am a women,
Who enjoys the same as those gone before,
They say I have no mind of my own anymore.

I am a women,
Outlandish and keen to explore,
They tell me stop this and settle for sure.

We are women
different and same alike,

We are women
with our own minds,

We are women
who deserve to thrive,
We are women who don't alway survive.

May those who intrigue me
forgive me my curiosity.

I do not wish to intrude
upon your peaceful interlude,
are act in any way that may
be seen as undue or rude to you.

I am fascinated, at how you created
the person who I see
full of grand complexity.

Sparkling lines of stars reflected
in the blanket of your brilliance,
I feel it’s force and frequently
desire to be overwhelmed
by such solar fury that I am incinerated,
only to be reincorporated in my own reflection,
put back together much improved
by what I learned from you.

The poetess or scientist,
the athlete or artist
that sparks this
spectacular inspiration,
particles of experience expelled
and collected as new perspectives.

Witchy spells and butterfly colors,
mortuary science and deep ****** puddles
as I wander and wither a dithering fool,
striving to write and connect to
anyone who will read and believe
in my creative sincerity.

It is so selfish, and I am a terrible thief;
Stealing soft utterances, and glances brief
to place them in these temporary word things
I call love but equally mean poetry to me.

I know how I’m going to die.
Trapped inside of my mind with no room to stretch
and no oxygen to breathe,
surly my own thoughts will suffocate me long before
I turn to stone from my rigid posture.

I’ve always wondered what I was meant to be
and if I will ever be able be that..
To attempt to accomplish everything I’ve laid out for myself
is terrifying, especially when
those I loved the hardest
already have a mold ready for me.

as if this was a twisted tale of Cinderella,
I was forced to wear something that could never fit me.
Blisters and bruises weren’t the only things I received.
now I hide inside of my mind,
a body inside of a body,
because how can he hurt me if
the real me is hidden ?