As a child, the backyard was
my sanctuary and my
playground.
I climbed the soft
pine tree and crawled to
the top of the garage.
I stood and gazed at all the
houses and streets.
I felt rich.

My mom had a brown
jewelry box shaped like
a treasure chest.
It reminded me of
pirates and adventure.
I filled it with
football cards
gum
candy bars
family pictures, and a few
coins.

I found a small shovel
and buried it in the
backyard close to the
pine tree.
I pretended to forget
where it was.
A week or so later, I
suggested to my best friend,
Wally, that we should
search my yard for buried treasure.

Of course, we found it.
I acted surprised.
We celebrated.
All these years later,
I realize that my treasure,
then and now, is imagination.
I'm a wealthy man.

Rejection
With a side of
Self torture
It’s no one’s fault
It didn’t work out
You quietly ignore
Today as before
Not even sure
If you can see the door

the wind moves my feet.
my eyes shining like the sun and the sea.

"your love brings me to my knees."

her sigh is a whisper
soft like autumn leaves
silently falling to the cold ground.

the shadow of a smile.
my heart misplaced
like a paper lantern in the rain.

my broken sky,

her soft sigh
and I was no longer hers.

I want to draw
what is in my heart
cathartic pictures
screaming the pain I feel
but I have neither the talent
nor the ink to express
all the skulls I see
dancing in the subset