it's fascinating
that kids who grew up sheltered
are the most broken

She knows she’s in
the sepia photograph
but doesn’t remember why
or who the others are

or why she dressed
as she did back then
or why there was a dog there
at the front

she keeps the photograph
tucked between
the pages
of the black Bible

some clergy gave her
and a dark secret
she was forbidden to tell
and sometimes

that short woman
with the Mongolian features
steals it to gawk at
then she has to go get it back

sometimes violently
which brings the nurses running
with their rough hands
and strait jackets

or that skinny woman
who always stares
takes hold of it
and stares at it

pointing to the various faces
of the males and females
and at the dog
and smiles and wets herself

and then laughs loudly
which causes
the other inmates
to bellow or laugh

or cry or scream
bringing the nurses trotting
with their what’s going on?
or what’s all this then?

she holds the photograph
to her ***** when she can
or tries to remember
who they all are

staring back at her
including herself
and when the quacks
question her

about the photo
as to who is who
or why she has kept it
she doesn’t have a clue

and one said
she ought not to have it
as it disturbed her
but a nice nurse

(and there were some) said
o no doctor she needs that
there will be hell to pay
if she doesn’t have it

tucked between the pages
of the Good Book
she kisses herself some days
talks to one or two

of the others there
but who they were
or to whom she speaks
she doesn’t know

and on cold wintery days
she looks toward the sun
for a message
or a warming glow.

Looking back, we never saw this coming.

Our roller blades had a relationship
with the warm summer ground on Friday
nights when our parents would gather
over margaritas and wine; an escape hatch from
the 9 to 5 work week. We killed fireflies the
way we chew on hearts of the ones we love,
rubbing their luminescent bulbs on
the toes of our shoes so that our steps
might light up the night for just a little
bit longer and maybe, just maybe,
we could hold off on growing up.

Looking back, we all  wish we could have stayed.

But bare foot soccer on concrete turned into
binge drinking, and alcohol poisoning
and neighborhood gatherings stopped being
kind.  We swapped Air Heads and Pokemon
cards for flavored condoms and a drivers
license, only to find that everything
we threw away was worth so much more
than the high school bullies, and boys with roofies,
and the girls with tears running down into
their tissue stuffed chests.  We gave
up our golden years, and to make up for it
we stuff Prozac down our throats with a
desperate belief that childhood happiness
can be found in an orange pharmacy bottle.
Hoping, I think, that someone will come along
and tell us we've done everything right,
and would we, for our reward, like our innocence returned.

Looking back, I guess we just couldn't comprehend.

We never knew that every day the pages turned
and we were slowly losing our love of fun dip
and cheap private-school valentines.  We were
starting to forget the pride that came with
the title of King in foursquare,  or the way
it felt to let go and jump from the highest point
of the swing.   Instead we staked out cafeteria
seats and tried to figure out why having
blonde highlights, or contacts instead of glasses
suddenly made you better than everyone else.

Looking back, it all seems so sweet.
Then again, they say hindsight is 20/20.

I found true happiness
When I looked in the mirror
And did not see a flawless face
But instead a face so flawed
It could only bear a joyful soul

salt water breath
i'm thinking about air or an heir or whatever you call it,
whatever you think i'm thinking cause i don't know how to explain this feeling
heart is aching and breaking as time goes on
freezing in the lack of ocean, fresh air, and sight of the milkyway
how my body craves the smell of salt and family,
the desire keeps me up at night with taunting dreams of gummy bears and the breeze,
never thought i'd say i'd miss a mode of transport that makes me physically ill,
red eye lids, and chapped lips pine for a better way to sleep due to the sick desire for some place a little rarer

You know you’re cuddly, when people who don’t like cats hug you,
He knows it all too well,
I found him by the roadside, all shriveled and tiny,
He was really tiny, with tiny teeth and tiny paws,
But with the loudest meow, I have ever heard,
It was surprising no one else had picked him up.
I took him home, cleaned him up, and fed him milk from a nippled bottle.
He grew in the coming weeks, months and years;
His tiny pouch now bigger than all his other body parts combined;
So, of course I panicked when he disappeared last week,
And plastered everywhere, on every tree, pole and fence
             Valentine is Missing,
             Cuddly, Dark Brown, blue eyes,
             Cute and Handsome combined!
I put up a pic of me and Valentine and since then the phone has not stopped
Apparently, many thought the cuddly one was me,
And that I was missing so a neighborhood search was carried out for which I joined
‘Coz I thought it was for my cat Valentine;
It was an old pic and I had lost 30lbs since; so no one recognized me from the pic
So, it was with awkwardness I approached the neighborhood watch chief
And thanked him for all he was doing and told him it would help if we all held some cat food in our hands.
That’s when the chief looked at me and almost yelled, “What the ****, Valentine is a cat??!!!”

"how are you?"
"fine."

It's routine
you and I

Sometimes I wonder
who you'd react
if I told you the truth

"how are you?"

I want to tell you everything.
I can't stand life anymore
I'm depressed
I'm confused
I'm upset
I'm alone
but never the less

"fine."

I don't think you want to know, really.
you don't really care, do you?
you never will

I think I'll find someone else
maybe he'll care

maybe he'll listen to me
instead of a simple nod
and hug me tightly
when I cry
or stroke my hair
and help me
instead walking away
and leaving me abandoned

"how are you?"
"I don't know."

It's a start.

Peering out the window,

I thought I saw you weeping

I thought, my mind in limbo,

That I glanced you dreaming.

-

It was as if you were right there,

Standing shaking in the rain,

Water off your short hair,

Your frown reflecting pain.

-

I thought I saw you standing

Beyond the trees out back,

I am not quite understanding,

Why still your sight attacks,

-

The nerves inside my chest,

And the bottom of my gut

Adrenaline in my breast,

And the wind wont upon my foot.

-

I could have sworn to up above

That I saw you beckoning,

The water, showing what once loved,

Into somehow in front appearing.

-

You saw me looking towards you

I tried to hide my face,

You tried to hide your smile too

I glimpsed it in your gaze

-

I know I didn’t dream this today

I thought I saw you, truthfully,

It was not longing in that way,

I was just caught off guard, you see.

-

Perhaps you may have seen me too

At one point or another,

Walking the streets that we used to

Or just holding each other,

-

But honestly I do not long

Verily I do not pine,

Although it would be nice in song,

I know you don’t feel at all fine,

-

I know I must make you sick,

I know I must make you weep

Which is why today your image yet sticks,

And your broken smile doth creep.

-

Which is why today I wondered

Wherefore you even passed me by,

Fictional in my mind of blunder,

And too afraid to question “why?”

-

Why then did I even witness you,

Walking across my path,

I spied you from my bedroom,

At quickened pace so fast?

Then you stopped all of the sudden,

To give my window fair gaze,

You must have seen my face be sullen,

And given yourself great praise.

-

Although, I know you think of what could be,

And maybe not being happy,

But if I could ever wish it clear,

Perhaps I would wish you be here,

But then again perhaps I not,

And first dive headfirst into cot,

And see I don’t just wake up again,

And find out of window, you are pretend.