I looked for a corner,
somewhere quiet in the library.
how exciting, an e-mail with opportunities
from a professor who cares.
i want it, but I can't help but
feel a little sad,
wherever you are dad.
tough love.
scrunchies, a book of matches,
and crumbs from crackers
sit in my pockets.
laundry basket, mile high
way past the brim.
i wasn't kidding when I said
you'd find a bottle of whiskey
hiding in there.
and all I wanna do is get through
college, I think.
I want to be a strong woman,
for now,
a young lady.
flash-backs to all the fun times.
my hand writing drifts
in shapes
to the sound of
a music box.
the curtains created
pretty shadows that
danced upon my arms.
I tried to be cool,
reading the newspaper.
I wanted to look
oh, so serious.
I am a joker.
I am your equal.
Yeah, salty dog?
Which aspect?
Can I say these things in poems?
I read the words,
why can't I marry my cousin?
these things keep me from
my sleep.
sweet dreams, candy-man.
oh, canyon creek,
where shall I go?
a mind hole?
a gold mine in the
gutter of my mind?
blind.
thanks Conor,
for the milk thistle.
is it fair to choose what
we want to hear?
did they know that 2013
would be so strange?
Professor Coker
wants something typed,
******* i gotta go pick up my bike.

He was the kind of man who
Rarely said, “I love you” first.
Hearing him say those three
Magic little words before I did
Always caught me off guard,
Like a child digging in the
Cookie jar and getting caught
Red handed by his mother.
I smile like the child does
When he’s finally allowed
A cookie for dessert.
The love we shared
Was like a family
Before it had even began.
I am the child that grins
Every time I’m allowed a cookie
And he is the mother that
Always gives in to my cravings.

Eyes locked for dragging seconds
You opened your mouth
And closed it
And opened it once more
Nothing but deafening waves of silence
Escaped your lips
The air became heavy and saturated
With words you wanted to say
But didn't

Two breaths, you took
Each in synchronism
With my subtle gasp of anticipation
Never did I dare
To question your hesitance
Because I, too
Fostered mangled words
On the tip of my tongue
That I could not string together
For the life of me

As if in a dream, he passes through that street
his days of youth walked most, bitten by the  lovebug;
a dear face of the past, from an open window of mind, peers,
those  tear filled eyes, still ask "Tell me why, oh! why?"