stringed notes
of a river's breeze

prelude
in afternoon cadence

the wind's
wine stained lips

chant a tune
of lover's
lust

and dance

to a seraph's
song

when i was young,
i only lived
between the pages of a book
between the words of a sentence
between Privet Drive and Baker Street
between bookstores and libraries
where I did not have to speak
to make friends;
where I made friends
who would not leave,
where I could leave
and return to see
that nothing had changed;
nothing, except me,
but only a little.

now that i’m older
i’ve been twice
to the other side and back;
i think i’d also like to live
between time zones and skylines
between silken sheets on starry nights
between your fingers and your eyes,
where conversations are passports
to other worlds in
in other hearts beating
in other bodies;

if only for just a little.

Spinning in a downward spiral
Like a sickness going viral
Bringing down the life of many
Sinking to the sea...
Screaming, crying 'help me out'
No one listens to her shout
Falling beneath the crashing waves
Of social acceptance...
She's breathing, not living
She wonders if she's worth saving
From the peer pressure from those above
To get out of the addiction to drugs...