I'm afraid I'll end up living a small life,
in a small place,
and my small dreams
are just what remain.
That when I'm decaying somewhere
far underground and returning
to where I began
All I'll be is a small memory
in just another brain.
The words I've scribbled (or typed)
will all be long gone.
the people I made smile
will be all far away.
I'm afraid of when
my small spirit starts to fade.

I swim in a sea of ice
Below frozen waves
Bitter currents entice
Darkness saves
Where silence reigns
Below the surface
Swept up in chains
Light alerts us
To Freedoms cry
It seeks to stray
Into our lonely minds
We fade away
Out of sight
Out of mind
Fading Light
A dying kind

Birth is a beautiful event,
Birth is a wondrous thing.
If it wasn't for birth, none of us would be here, not even a single breath.
Birth is when life is given to you, for no cost but is worth so much more.
Savour it.

X marks the spot but still I am lost,
                Stuck on the spot but feeling drawn to you.
       My lips go dry, yearning after your gentle touch.
Seeing you there shivering on the curb                                 brings tears to my eyes.
      You hold out your hand,
                  I am found.

It's winner take all
For the tile of "Belle of the Ball"
You know the in's and out's
Your familiar with the ropes
No retreat, no surrender
Don't let this siphon your energy
Don't let 'em ruffle your feathers
Bob and weave
Head, body, head, body
Feed it through
Never hand over hand
We're at such a high altitude
There is so fallback
No drawbacks
To getting this off your chest
It's fight or flight
In the moment of truth
So chalk it up to natural selection

Pitter patter,
Is that the sound of the drops of rain streaming outside down my windowpane or is it in the pain I am feeling while the tears cascade down on my swollen cheeks?
I try to speak but no words come out,
The rain stops.
Pitter patter, the sound of my tears and the thudding of my heavy heart are now one.
I try to speak but no words come out.

54

If I should die,
And you should live—
And time should gurgle on—
And morn should beam—
And noon should burn—
As it has usual done—
If Birds should build as early
And Bees as bustling go—
One might depart at option
From enterprise below!
’Tis sweet to know that stocks will stand
When we with Daisies lie—
That Commerce will continue—
And Trades as briskly fly—
It makes the parting tranquil
And keeps the soul serene—
That gentlemen so sprightly
Conduct the pleasing scene!

Never be afraid to make me laugh
Even if over time I ask you to stop
And I tell you you’re making me look older
Just brush that off.
I really do love the wrinkles that you’ve put around my mouth
And when I look at them I see tiny quotation marks
That remind me of all the things I have to say
And that all of those things I say are important enough
For you to quote me on
And as more time passes and those tiny wrinkled quotation marks
Get bigger and bigger and start to blend together around my lips
They’ll look more like parenthesizes
And I’ll really, really love those too
Because they’ll remind me that when I used to have to say, “I love you”
I’ll know that I love you is always implied.

We were told we were born sick
Though we never felt ill
We met in Sunday school
And over the coughs of other children
That hacked out either verses or mucus
It was never clear which
I asked you for a paint brush
And you stepped over the damp tissues
Thrown defeated on the ground
Like offerings at a precession
And you’d painted next to me.

We were told we’d always be sick
But we never looked ill
When I accidently bumped your elbow reaching for
More paper
Our blushing cheeks the color of alter wine
Bore healthy smiles and warm glows
And after countless more Sundays
When the men in funny neck ties
Came around to give us crackers
In the shapes of pills we couldn’t swallow
We decided to hide them in the sleeves of our robes
And we watched as all the other children
Grew sicker while we grew stronger
Even though they drank blood
And we’d sneak off to drink wine.

We became the heretics of hallelujahs
AWOL archangels
And we were never bed ridden from illness
In fact we yearned for the outside
Disregarding the warnings of germs
That ran rampant there
Figuring that was why they made the
Church’s steeple look like a needle
We wanted freedom nonetheless.

They told us that we would catch the flu
By holding hands
And when we were caught contaminated
They told us to wash our bodies off in the water
And you looked at me and I looked at you
And we agreed that we should-
But not this water, not here
So we grabbed hands again
And you with your free left and I with my free right
Pushed through the double doors
And as the light poured in the chapel
It scorched the priests but for us it baptized us whole
And now we tell ourselves swimming in the sea
That became our holy healing water
We’d only ever be as sick as others let us be.

Beneath the grey I wait,
seagulls scream at the coming fury
in attempt to shake it's resolve.
Wind rises, then stutters
as heavy stillness overcomes.
Silence now, as windows close
and the earth holds it's breath.
A single drop, heavy, crystalline,
leads the crescendo
as the Symphony begins.