Drama queen dreams
have been restructured
by good therapy

which has exposed
how close I was
to practicing popping.

Stabilizers expected
to shorten the time
between hurt and healing.

She said a week
or 2 is enough
time to try again.

Scared straight sane
by the threat
of a prescription

and the visual
of the structure
of my categories.

Troubled by realizations
of not loving them all
as much as some others.

I say "I Love You"
more to them
than some family

hear it from me.
Loved, they should Be.
Revision in progess.

It is my work
since it takes much
longer to sink in.

Real love is constant.
I've experienced pain
then emotionally reneged

when a higher love
was due and within
my giving power.

Make a decision,
she said. I am
reading the lines

instead of marking
my dreams between them.
I flip closing pages

while a tilted can
revives a life, once,
wilted in my hands.

there is salvation and life
through our redeemer
yet due to my deeds
you are still hurting.

how can i ask your forgiveness
when i can't find you?
how can i clear my debris
when you're still going through?

it was to me mere chance
that God patched my wounds
and with faith i believe
he can tend to yours too.

i pray his omnipotence
through angels dispatched
to your weary side deliver
my apologies in tact

find peace in that fact
that my mind was lost
and that day my deeds were
chasing a greed at any cost

make me a perp or villain
i will be what you need
my heart cries for you to heal
with your heart made whole and free.

i skin the street
rolling through moments
in skimpy ways
that peel my weariness

ripped while bouncing

i lose much more
when i attempt to control
what's inside of me

it feeds its desire
to oppose the tumbling
i've been tossed into

yet i'm engorged
with intentions that lack
the ability to stop.

thank God I paused
before finding rest
against an unmarked curb
along a road less traveled.

imperial candle light defies
breaths blown destructively

lives downed with double edges
****** by nescient beliefs

if we could have defended them
what would we have said?

preventing the taking of their last
with the power of our next breath

replacing new millenium latch keys
with a hand and body to embrace

loving all of our community's spirits
to pass with age. not by hatred.

we never want to see
our child die before us
and we still pray to precede them
after seeing them die many times
                *
you've died right before my eyes
too many times for me to count

God knows i wasn't prepared this time
to see that glazed look in your eyes
with lids that i couldn't close
as they slammed upon tears that fell like stone

crashing upon brittle locks
that shattered like illusions installed
to protect my little girl from a ******
weakened by a familiar predator
that God knew long before
we ever joined to color by numbers

each recanting of you being pushed down
then smothered by the dead weight of ****
started a death rattle so pronounced
that i reached out to leave with you

God knows we will make it through this
as you psychologically pass from me once again
to mourn aside a grave marked for this event
on the eve of the sunrise of your empowerment.

My poetry is the embodiment
of the creator's fore knowledge of my existence.
My birth to my death are in each line
that I've laid down to lay with.

With a power my speech can not equal
my writings demand I "let there be."
Now, she's calling for me to sacrifice it
as Abraham was told to sacrifice his Seed.

Yet his requester provided a replacement
once loyalty was shown in the raised knife.
A trapped sacrifice to spare the son
from a blade raised to honor the All Mighty.

You know that I would give you anything
yet nothing has pulled my fingers away
from the plunging of blades into my eternity
with each completed writing's lifting away.

Where is my ram struggling in strong vegetation?
Where is your voice stating firmly
that I've done enough to show my heart
and that my lineage has been spared by mercy?

Inspiration tells me its receptive desires
so God must know my divine purpose in creation
is the reception of initiating penetrations
that conceives fillers of the gap between our separation.

I have cravings for you
that shatter and drown me.

Sometimes I want you so bad
that I hear echoes enhancing.

Then, other times my heart drowns
after maniacally nesting tsunamis
that lift then fall upon me.
I've been hit so hard lately

that the shore has become my lifeline.
On the borderline of consumption
I've been ordered to lay in lieu
of moving at my heart's suggestion.

My lips chap near purged wounds
as my shoulder and hip indent
the remains of our starvation.
Pearls form from my erosion.

A nearby sand castle is falling
with each passer's sinking step.
Merging into me, we become sedentary lovers
creating sound effects of restoration

that rest like my distal desires
as sediment on the walls of my longing.