March comes like a punching bag

March will bring her smiles like plastic bags
Some tear some don’t
You never know when she will glare her teeth like razorblades and bleed the snow
from underneath these fingertips.
Leave my insulation soaked, me; feverish.
And the joke is, I saw this coming
shivering the melted ice out of me she
bares her grin like a warning sign,
and I was either too brave or dumb enough to step inside
like a welcome mat made out of ice
and a cartoon dog
A scared pitbull, and a woman in charge.
The joke is that haha
There is no joke, you walked in.,
and made one out of yourself.
Out of the frost on your eyelashes and grief on your fingernails.
haha get it,
sweat her out like the coldest fever, without dying of shock.
Get it now?
She brings back the taste of firewood and comfort of flames when you needed it the most
Punches like the best punchline
hard enough to make it hurt
not hard enough to make you forget
hahaha
Knocks the wind out of you.

She never noticed
books of poetry.
Her life was busy
with empathy
for those troubled
from pains scratched
on psyches from
neglect, abuse
or sacraments to fallen Gods.

She seldom heard music
except when,
heartsick from lost love,
she wallowed in vain misery
or during her youth when
hit parades blasted from
solid state radios
in dashboards, or from
jukeboxes flashing
come hither.

She thought little of flowers
nor paused to note scents,
shades or grace on
stems of green.  Her head
was busy with
important matters,
day-to-day grinding
away on work or play.

Now alone,
she absorbs whiteness from
clouds,  motion from birds,
or fragrance from flowers
with senses dulled by
age, injury or illness.
She sifts through her
day looking for
fresh tranquility.

I picked up the pieces of the mirror
And put them back together
The images are closer than they appear
I'll think like that forever

As the pieces came together
I saw something I thought I would never see
An image laughing and smiling forever
I soon realized it was me

The proof of my existence rang through the room
How did I change when all hope had been lost
My happiness was radiant and had come so soon
A last I found peace, peace with no cost

If I looked down on myself from above
I would look like a feverish dream
gold bleeding out of my eyes like a cracked open door
and cheeks stained crimson as if being out in the wind too long
rushing breath stumbling
down my lips
I am running
while laying in a mess of heat
heart beating just a little too fast
to make me
"normal"

you bring me down to earth with breaths you whispered into my mouth
maybe you're telling me secrets with your eyes
while I am desperately trying to regulate my heart rate
beautiful doesn't even capture
your hushed voice
tell me again
how to cut off my wings
and be human
you look like a dream
a feverish dream
I don't feel alive
but perhaps
oblivion isn't so bad

I'll throw my head up to the sky
attempting to break the separation
trying to stop running
while standing still
on the edge
of where I could be
and where I am
take my face in your hands
and convince me

I'm not dreaming

I know you say you wish the world was smaller,
Because you've always dreamt of seeing it all,
But frankly, I'm glad that the world is large in size,
Because that means I can go everywhere with you.
And once we go to every state and every city,
I'll confess to you that throughout all of our trips and all the places we've seen,
I've discovered my own little world,
You.