Mindlessly applauding
the torn for choosing right
denies the open weight felt
of them not choosing left

The ripping of blank paper
is heard in your
congratulations and affirmations

Giving pride that isn't yours to hold
remains unknowingly empty
Wrapped well
Recieptless

Let go of optimistic ear muffs
and bright yellow shades

Yeild.

Tugging left turns
misled me to the same stop sign
begging to be dismissed

Lost in a spiral,
in my own left turns,

not abandoned but alone

Despite being desperately sought,
these roads are different in the dark

No comfort or guidance
in this backpack made of bricks
with bricks too sharp for a stuffed bear,
bricks too large for a lamp

Concern and direction
slip through
the cracks and the bricks
in the deafening darkness

Left again,
just one more time

What shades am I wearing,
what muffs are mine
that instruction is muffled,
that care is shaded grey

Even still,
my lefts are my right
my right to make
and to hold
and to keep
and to breathe
and to bleed

Save your pride
and your rosey half-full glasses
Hold your applause
and the promise of a later okay

Acknowledge the bricks
I am carrying now

They are concrete

More so,
than the life you see
that might never live to be

Pigtails of plenty,
yellow scrunchies,
and purple plaid.

"You're only you,
I'm pleased as punch,
I'm only glad".

Peter Piper and Betty Botter
picked some peppers
and bought some butter,

Too many rhythms,
too many rhymes,
too much to say,
too little of time.

I hear not to run,
I'm asked what's the rush.
The more that I rush
and the faster I run,
the sooner I'll reach
my great big fun.

Shoe laces bug
big fun
they do.

"They do.

Your speech is peaches
your pace is pie
the space you use
is more than fine".

I try to explain
the colors I play;
going with guidelines
is only a game.
Skipping through gardens
of boxes that make
splendid presents
to open
and fun blocks
to break.

"They're only toys,
you're precisely right".

Meaning is found
in circles on paper,
when pencils make the path.
I see signs in the sky
and in my mind
that for others
seek to hide.
Sometimes it's first fantasy;
another time is reality

If you listen to me,
if you'll hear what I say,
you can learn to see colors,
and can stop seeing grey

"You're sight is unique,
you're special indeed,
but you aren't set apart,
left out,
or alone.

I believe".

The happiness I've found
I can't express.
Clapping
and stomping
and spinning around
aren't enough
to catch
the feelings I've felt.

"Your words aren't just sound,
they're a song to be sung;
felt by each
bringing glasses to sing
one by one,
to echo
to ring".

Every coin has two sides...

Aches that I feel
I can't explain.
Big tears have fallen
that haven't told you pain.
Sharper to chip,
heavier to break,
louder to shake
I wish they were.
They chip, break, and shake
but you can't feel my aches.
I can't explain what's real
when it's only felt inside.

"You don't have to stress about
why you feel what you feel.
There might not be a why
but it's fair and it's real.

I know how hard
it is to live here,
for you to allow,
but it's not forever,
it's only for now".

I promise to slow down
I'll be quieter I swear
I won't reach higher than my height
I won't choose left over right
Believing without sight
is for children not my height
I'll draw squares that are not round
and play games you'll understand
with children on the playground
not alone in this box of sand

"You promise every year to be shy,
to not run,
to not trip,
to not cry big cry's.

This year promise to be you,
to wear plenty of pigtails
with purple plaid
with yellow scrunchies

with some breaths unallowed.
Like the breath that lives
between a sentence
wasting time
if only for an instant.

Jimminy Crickets
and Holy Cow,
I know.

Even though it's hard,
although you're awfully sad,
try to love this special you;
it's the only you to have
and to hold
and to hug
right now.

I'll skip with you
and hold your hand.
I'll hear your words,
the one's unsaid.
I'll sit by you

and be your friend.

Fire Agate

Rendered at last,
  with seamless lines
    of every shade
  and layer on top of layer

As we know,
  one burning tree
    can set
      it's forest aglow

and so came her soul
  with fire's inside

    But with fire comes chaos

Birches chirp
  for consequential change
    for her edge's
      to chip away
Then a Maple
  , through sweet rustles,
     asks for more
Willows fume
  fatal wishes
    for the forest
    to surrender,
  for water over embers
A Cypress follows
  , with deep concern,
      and begs to stand
Ashes whisper
  for another
    just one more day
But an Elm
  seeks that same color
    but within her
  and to stay

It's dangerous to dance
  with this many tree's

"One day,
  maybe I'll break,
and maybe someone,
  maybe you,
    will see

between the waves
  that meet at peak,
    that fold into another,
see why the cold sky
  shy's behind the hot sun
    but are drawn together,
see below the clear surface
  that deceives
    by gifting you assumptions,
see how clear agate
  over hematite
    gives you iridescence,
see beyond the points
  we know,
    and please see
  where a circle stops.

Maybe you'll see
  what I can't

    , me"

She was planted
just as the rest

"Why do I look different?"

She liked her tea,
but wanted company,
so she painted herself pink

She laughed at inside jokes
she was outside of,
nodded at words
she didn't know,
even said some of her own

"Please no one see I'm not the same"

She waited until next spring
every summer,
but every year,
had to paint herself pink

"I'm surely broken"
she believed
for too many years

"...to find the right seed"
"...just a late bloomer"
she heard

Next spring,
she learned her name

Parade tulip
in a field
of cherry blossom trees

"Is there somewhere
a someone
who will love me"
she wondered from time to time

but she still drank her tea,
and stopped painting herself pink