Whisper your breath against my neck
Like the wind speaks through the tree leaves.
Feel my pulse beneath your lips,
Over my wrists,
Next to my jawline,
Hovering about my still heart.
Spill blood rushing in my veins,
Into my lungs and send
A tornado of butterflies
Spinning deep within my stomach.
I want to fly into your garden
And flutter in such a harmony
That piano keys long to be touched
With a tenderness that only fingertips can hold.

i've lived three hundred lifetimes
i know three hundred ways to die
I can't stop coming back here
I know, because I've tried

An endless cosmic circle
Where my soul is on the move
I've lived three hundred lifetimes
I'm stuck in an empty, hollow, groove

I'm lost, but I don't know it
I'm lost, but I can't tell
I'm lost, but I don't know it
I'm lost, in times deep well
I'm lost....so lost
I'm lost...so lost

I've come back as a sailor
Then I drowned while out at sea
I've come back as a mother
died in pregnancy

Each time, there is a feeling
That I've been in this place in time
I can't explain the feeling
I'm in a groove, not on a line

I'm lost, but I don't know it
I'm lost, but I can't tell
I'm lost, but I don't know it
I'm lost, in times deep well
I'm lost....so lost
I'm lost...so lost

I know that I have met you
Once or twice our paths have crossed
There's a feeling that surrounds you
But, still I feel that I am lost

After three hundred seven lifetimes
Before I'm in the ground
I've got a feeling that we're special
I'm lost as lost, but, not quite found

I'm lost, but I don't know it
I'm lost, but I can't tell
I'm lost, but I don't know it
I'm lost, in times deep well
I'm lost....so lost
I'm lost...so lost

You know, I didn't even know it
That I was lost, until you came
into my life and found me
because you too had felt the same

Until you came along and found me
I didn't know I was lost...but you
Came into my life and found me
I guess that's what soul mates do.

I'm lost, but I don't know it
I'm lost, but I can't tell
I'm lost, but I don't know it
I'm lost, in times deep well
I'm lost....so lost
I'm lost...so lost

This  morning eating breakfast
I saw an image on my toast
Was it peanut butter?
Or did I see the Holy Ghost?

I looked again and noticed
that it just looked cold and plain
Was I seeing things I shouldn't?
Or was I going...well,...insane?

I've a picture in my basement
Of the Madonna, and it cry's
I think a pipe behind it's broken
But, it just comes through the eyes

I'm not very religious ...But, I know...
there's been a message sent to me
I know this 'cause I read this
"Did you get the message?" in my tea

I was working in the garden
And I saw the face of God
It was green, and slightly muddy
In a twelve foot piece of sod

I've seen images and icons
And to prove I am no slouch
On Tuesday, I saw Jesus
He was sitting on my couch

I know I need to speak out
To prove I'm not here to deceive
But, with what I've seen here lately
It's **** hard to not believe

If nothing is for certain,
then why is certainty the only emotion I feel with you?
Heart beats skipping like grade schooler's hopskotching on my ventricles
I was, I am, enamored that I, a once heartless being, could feel this way.
Uncertainty is the only thing certain to drown my thoughts
But if nothing is for certain,
how can I be sure that my thoughts are even real?
Who decides what is right or wrong, true or false, real or fake?
Because if nothing is for certain,
I say with great uncertainty that I indeed do like you.

I plucked words from your mouth like petals from a flower and let them settle in between my bones. So that when you stumble home with fire in your fists, your once-soft " I love you"s would soothe my aching skeleton from the inside out. But petals often wither, and their silk touch turns to dust, and these days you don't say "I love you" to replace the ones I've lost.

You can't fall in love during the summer. There are no shivering hands or burnt tongues or worn out coats. Sandy beaches are a poor substitute for autumn leaves, especially in the Midwest, and the heat will burn out new passion much too quickly. Love requires coughing on bonfire smoke and learning the difference between grey skies and rain.

You can't fall in love during the summer, but that's when I met you, and I think I'm starting to realize that not every rule is made to be broken, but every broken rule is made with consequences.

You can't fall in love during the summer, I know because we tried, and look where that choice has landed us.

For as long as I can remember,
I've been practicing safety drills.
school, home, the work place, even planes.

Everyone wants to be prepared
for those so-called natural disasters.
It's stunning how they never think to
prepare you for heart break.
It's so much more common.

You are the earthquake that has me
braced for an aftershock. I am hiding
under doorways, diving for the protection
of restaurant tables. My survival kit
is fresh out of healing, and my wounds are
growing agitated. Why wasn't I prepared for this?

Algebra and Grammar won't help me
get out of bed tomorrow morning.
Testing door handles to see if they are hot
will only keep me away from flesh wounds.
Zoology taught my to dissect a frog,
but your vital organs are so much harder to locate.

Is there even a heart inside your chest?

Some things exist behind curtains of experience.  

Those whose tongues have
tasted the holy fire know the touch
of something divine.

Those who have laid eyes on
their sleeping bodies, and walked
away to places unknown, can grasp
the idea of an inbetween.

Those who have groped in the darkness
for something to believe in again, who
have longingly looked over the cliff edge,
know that true despair does exist.

As for me,

I know that true fear can
come in the form of footsteps
behind you on the empty street.

The person at the bar who insists on
hollow compliments and free drinks.

Friends who scoff at your anger for
men who yell out their passenger side
windows about the treasures beneath
your clothes.

True fear can come in the middle
of the afternoon, as you face
off against the four floor staircase
to your apartment, when your steps
are echoed by the man in 2b who has
a wife, son, and a taste for resistance.

Don't tell me I'm overreacting,
when the single most terrifying thing
I can do is walk alone under the street lamps.

Don't tell me I'm too uptight just
because I've learned that flattery
can come with a horrifying price tag.

Don't tell me I'm wrong just
because you don't understand.

Look me in the eye when you have
waited until a security guard can walk you
to your car.  When you have held your
breath in a shared elevator.  When you have
lowered your eyes to the men who yell
obscenities at you, because standing up
for yourself could prove deadly.  

Look me in the eye when you have held back
the curtain of experience, and walked in the shoes
of someone who lives every moment knowing
this could be the day someone decides to steal
from me what is only mine to give.

Then look me in the eye when you tell
someone of your wound, and they reprimand
you for daring to walk this world as a woman.

The first night I stayed under the stars at your house,
I tossed and turned until finally I woke you with
Soft kisses over your bare shoulders and on your chest
Just above your heart.
After stirring out of your slumber, your lips brushed mine
And the crook of your arm fit perfectly around
My body as you held me close.
One of us just barely awake, the other wide.

Learning to sleep with someone new takes time;
Discovering the way their chest rises and falls
Like the tide comes up to kiss the sand
Before receding back and pushing forward again.
Listening to their deep breaths as they lay
Almost lifeless on their back,
Matching their breaths to heartbeats beneath your cheek.
The way they stir in the sleep and reposition
Themselves so their arm holds you safe and secure
Even when they’re dreaming.

My first paper cut happened so fast
I didn’t know something so thin
Could hurt so badly.
Thin was never an adjective
I’d associated with pain but
The sting of red blood that
Appeared on the surface of my skin
Would later become an addiction
I couldn’t get away from.
Thin silver razor blades
And thin white paper
Shouldn’t seem so similar.

My teacher asked me if I needed a
Band-Aid at my kindergarten conference
When a paper cut sliced my finger
While we were going through my materials
As if looking into my future.
I told her I didn’t need a Band-Aid
And in return, she told me that I was strong.

Kindergarten has come and gone
And after a very long time of thinking
Band-Aids made you weak,
I’ve realized that bandaging up your
Wounds actually makes you stronger
Than trying to bottle up the hurt.

There are parts of you that make you who you are,
And parts that don’t.
Parts of you, that without them,
You don’t feel like you belong to the group you
Once associated with.
Having my ******* removed in order to enter remission
And beat breast cancer
Feels like my womanhood has been lost.
Flat chested takes on an entirely different meaning.
It’s crazy how I hear women
Wishing that their ******* weren’t so small
But they don’t know what it’s like
To have no ******* at all.
Or that they wish their hair was longer
When mine is the length of the guard
On an electric razor that my husband uses.
How does a man begin to love a woman
That has scars where her ******* should be?
The hair on my head has yet to grow back, even a little bit.
Reminding me only that I’m still a woman
Is the gift Mother Nature sends each month.
The cramps in my abdomen seem ten times less
Compared to heaving an empty stomach
Into a pan or toilet bowl next to me
After the chemicals have entered my system.
Throwing up from morning sickness
As my unborn child has just started to live
Told me that I was indeed a woman.
But now after she has grown and must
Watch her mother battle cancer,
Lose her hair, throw up nothing but emptiness,
And she still tells me that I’m the
Most beautiful woman on the planet.
How do I tell her that I feel like
An alien from Mars?

You know when you are growing up

The stages you go through

Make you the way you are

They help to make you...YOU

The people who you deal with

Whether family or your friends

Are very influential

And they're with you 'till the end

But little things they tell you

Might  get on your last nerve

You know you sometimes hate them

And it's not something they deserve

I miss my Grandad fiercely

Now, more than before

I wish I'd listened closely

And I wish I'd listened more

You know the tales that old folks tell

The one's we love to hate

Like "you've not got it hard boy"

"You've got it ****** great"

We all know about the walk to school

The uphill walk both ways

About how they only had an orange

And it had to last four days

You know they meant the best for you

But, that's not how it came off

You'd love to go and visit

But, you also loved to scoff

Times were always harder then

You never knew what you had

At least that was the feeling

That I got from my Grandad

They all got married younger

They were stronger in their minds

We were lazy, non-commital

To hard work, we were blind

So, every time a visit

Came around, I'd ask to stay

I'd rather be at home alone

Than with Grandad for the day

But, one day changed my feelings

I learned what Grandad was about

When I went there for a visit

And my Grandad took me out

We went out for a road trip

That my parents did allow

And that road trip still stays with me

My eyes were opened....wow!

He knew I would have rather

Stayed at home and not been there

But, I went out for my parents

And he knew I didn't care

First he took me to a building

"I'm just here to quaff a brew

And while I'm sitting with my cronies

There's something you must do."

I didn't know it was a legion

And he handed me a book

He said this was a memoriam

And that I should have a look

Each face I saw stare back at me

Had died before their time

They went to fight for freedom

Not just theirs, but yours and mine

Mere children when you think back now

And how they went to war

They would forever be this young

And would not age forever more

Grandad said, "We're going"

"We have another stop"

And it was at this destination

That the other penny dropped

He took me to a statue

In the park, so resilute

It was stone and bronze and copper

And my Grandad did salute

The cenotaph he called it

I'd not heard that name before

He said it was a monument

To those who'd gone before

The names and the young faces

That I'd seen that afternoon

Were honored by this edifice

That stood like a Roman Ruin

"Each town" he said gave their young men

To make sure  Freedom reigned

"And each Legion has a book like ours

So we don't forget their names"

I stepped back from the statue

that honored our towns dead

He said, "do not salute"

"you can stand and bow your head"

That day, My Grandad reached out

And he made me understand

All those things he'd told me

And what it takes to be a man

Now, years have passed and he is gone

I miss him every day

"We walked up hill both ways to school"

I'd love to hear him say

Forty years have come and gone

Now, I'm a Grandad too

I've two grandkids I'd love to see

And, I hope they'd love to see me too

But, just like me when I was young

They want to live their life

They'd rather spend time with their friends

Than with their Grandad and his wife.

My son dropped by the other day

And the kids came to say hi

I'd love to see them more than this

And that's the reason why

I loaded up the car with them

"I' won't be long my dear"

"We're just off for a short road trip "

"Just to go and have a beer"

She smiled, she knew the reason

And I know that she is glad

For I want them to be proud of me

Like I was, my Old Grandad.

The sunlight is in your eyes
Live with every risk in life,
For tomorrow might not be awake
For tomorrow might be the end.

Love the day that offers hope
Less the nights of imperfect souls,
Let your heart fades the shadows
For the roads might bend tomorrow.

Forget heartaches, smile in the rain
The joy will ever take away the pain,
For tomorrow might not be awake
For tomorrow might be the end.