too troubled to be left alone,

too drunk to walk back home,

crossing your mind,

every once in a blue moon.

or maybe not at all,

not this empty room,

smiling left and right like a fool,

every single moon,

foolishly think of you,

pushing more into the ground,

forgetting and keeping me around.

She writes
Poetry and prose
Images come
From deep inside
Sometimes feelings
When they do
She writes
Showing the importance
Of small things
That go unnoticed
Leaves
The smell of the air
The feel of a gentle breeze
Brightness of the sun
Her words are precise
Yet not
Evoking images
Feelings
Taking the reader
On a journey
Their own special one
Shaped by their lives
Precise

Dad, I am going to try and write this
It may be a poem
It may not
But from my heart
I miss you
I remember the last time I kissed you
Your eyes were closed
They opened wide
As I kissed your forehead
In that terrible place
So white and clean
Where people die
But you will never die
Dad
I love you so much
And you will always live on
In my heart
Forever
God, I miss you so much
It's so hard to write through the tears

My window seemed to have been stuck in snow mode...
For all I could see were snowflakes...
All day long...
Now the window is on night mode...
The moon and stars took over...
They must be brave to be outside on a night this cold...
A night where all I can think of is to contemplate the cheery fireplace...
I'm enjoying the flames dancing to the wind...
After a while I decided to look outside again...
And I see all the snow out there...
It looks bright because of the moonlight...
And I suddenly feel the urge to go outside...
To be company for the moonlight and the snow...
Even if it's cold...
It is still a beautiful view...
I suppose that is one of the secrets of life...
Enjoy and admire all you can see...
So off I go...
I am going Snow dancing...
My hands will be cold when I come back...
So I may not be able to write more today...
Perhaps I will continue tomorrow...
For now I will dance to the music of the wind...
Following the rhythm of the blinking stars...
Life is about dancing at all what makes you happy...

Atlas to your expectations
Icarus to Grace
Flown too close, yet fell on your face.
Crack it open.
Fear proceeds,
The seed to the lies
That keep you from me.
Eye contact with the mirror,
Turned to stone.
Frozen by the longing
to be wanted and known

When I’m gone, walk my dog on the beach in the early morning.  
Let him see me in the sunrise, feel me in the pulling tide, smell me in the salty winds.