now i am airborne

   floating

                drifting...

                                surrounded by the lightest of waves

i am reclining as my eyes search upward and
i glide ever so softly so slowly in a perfectly
light blue celestial expanse

i am suffused with hope
with fullness and love
with great faith in seeing them again
my mother    my father

i will find them at peace and
be comforted when i see them together -
with swords bent and broken and buried -
their eyes smiling...their arms open to me

no more will they be the warring force  i'd been subjected to
no more the awful couriers of malice i'd been witness to
and when i find them in heaven's home, this once
sainted child, this damaged soul who glides
toward them will forgive them...my heart
will be rich with love and goodness
transformed and transcendent
i will rush to receive their
blessed embrace

he wants me, but doesn't know how to get close to me.
i am dangerous,
a girl dressed in caution tape,
a ticking time bomb who wears too much mascara.
the cameras in his pupils record my hands tucked into my sleeves,
the careful way my eyes dart around,
and they send little warning messages to the part of his brain
that wants to **** me on his mother's blue couch.
noted: how i rarely text back,
how my smiles are too frequent to be genuine,
how i pull him along on a string with no intention of committment.
he doesn't know, not really, but i'm sure he can see
the storm lurking deep in my eyes.
being only a fledgling sailor, he is afraid to steer his ship in my direction.
i do not blame him.
i am dangerous,
a girl dressed in caution tape,
i am a ticking time bomb, and i have his name written all over me.

there are tiny, tiny plants
in conwy high street, for sale.

alpines.

folding the washing, out
came a tiny tiny beetle,
placed on the dining table,
the way to its freedom.

gaze at tiny tiny things,
the world becomes another
space.

this is precious.

sbm.

The pile of boxes
Lay at the end of the bed
She stands
Researching
Rehearsing
Each line he said

Her horizons
Endless, nameless
A story starting with her sun

She acted all day
Perfecting the play
Of forgotten summers

At night, her mind in transit
Musical interlude
Records spin on repeat
Arms stretching
Around every boy she meets

Staring
She looks at them now
Vinyl sleeves worn thin
Each song tells a story
Needle scratches
beneath her skin

She'll never forget his face
Feelings transcend time
But still the rock
keeps turning
Burning, forever

Telling tales of youth gone by
Eternally lost
In the orbit
of her mind's eye.

id write a poem about
my wrath toward
our justice system, but
the only thing my
voice can screech, is
oh my god,
enough will never be enough

i pray justice for antonio martin