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Beneath the facades of meticulous composure
Rehearsed   mannerisms that are etiquette conformist
And Mechanized body language are underbellies
Immune to society’s manipulation
Storms rage continuously and incessantly
To one’s chagrin and no recourse to assuage
The emotionally grim state of affairs
In sight on the expanse horizon of chance
Feeling and emotion
Have a mind of their own
Which society with its immense
“Instruments of power”
Can’t effectively control
But still the bird’s wings are
Clipped
Whether by chance or design
Is an issue reserved for the deities
That’s if they do exist.
*I just wish
I lived in a time
when circumstance allowed
my outpouring of raw emotion
without being branded
unethical...or in contravention of etiquette*
She wakes again in blinding sunlight
From gentle dreams of black and white
She hides her eyes, embraces her plight
Her breath laced with the gin of last night

Hair knotted, lips cracked, she smells like smoke
Cigarettes for breakfast make her choke
She still sometimes laughs though she's the joke
She's tired, she's wasted and her heart's broke

She watches in silence and dreams her days
Chiming the hours as she wasted away
She gave up her virtue to feel loved for a day
She's playing her part in her dreamers ballet
If you kissed me in the dark with your lips tasting
Of alcohol and smoke on your breath I might fall in love
Perhaps not forever or even until we saw the sun,
But for one moment in our fleeting lives.
I'd give you my body so take it, **** it, hold me
As we sleep off a night we might not remember tomorrow.
When you wake up I'll be gone; you will never realise
But I left a little piece of my soul imprinted on yours.
And though I can not have you when we touch the day,
And though my heart belongs to everyone and no one,
Remember, for one moment,
I was yours, yours completely and yours alone
Tears are
f
a
l
l
I
n
g.
There
C o l l e c t i n g ..
C o l l i d i n g
C r a s h i n g
Into what once was beautiful memories of me and you
I'm drowning in the salt water
Bubbles are forming at the top
My heart is about to stop
There is no us
And I'll be a good little girl and I won't put up a fuss..
So if you really don't love me, let me blow of some steam and let me drown in these
puddles of fallen salt water dreams...
They took me away from it all..
Made me start over
Took me to the hospital again and called me "Crazy"
Told me to take my medication
Told me to sleep without any worries
Told me that everything was going to be okay, if I **** my... pills
Forced me into therapy
Made me talk about my "Problems"
P r e t e n d e d ..
Like I was going to get better
Or at least humored it
Now I sit alone
Like usual
I told you I needed you..
That
I needed a place to stay
S o m e o n e
S o m e t h I n g..
But no..
You told me you had to much "Anxiety"
That I needed to "figure things out"
That you wouldn't "let me in your door" if I ran to you
Because I needed you..?..
Who says that, when someone needs them?
What kind of a person..
And then you go and write a poem about me the same me you wouldn't even open your door for..
I mean seriously can I not... trust anyone..
And I love how after all of this I'm still considered the "Crazy one"
After what you did
Did you even take the time.?.
Did you know that I was going to **** myself?
Maybe you did..
But you still wouldn't open your door
You
Didn't listen...
And now..
Now..
Well, I think I'm going "Crazy"..
Here’s what a divorce does:

Divorce
Takes a remnant of a family from the house they moved into 10 years before
when their family numbered 6
then added a 7th

Divorce
Takes them from the house where a new daughter came home
a new Marine came home
the first daughter-in-law came home
the first grandchild came home
the newest daughter to be came home
where we battled illness and survived
where we laughed till we cried.

Divorce
Takes them from the house where friends have gathered to celebrate
birthdays
bonfires
a prom
a dinner dance
a wedding.
Divorce
takes one away
puts two in limbo
makes three leave
four-legged family members
who can’t live
where they are going.

Divorce
shatters family
abandons dreams
mutilates memories
condemns the future.

Divorce
only helps the one who wanted it.

4/13/2012
I wonder
is he embarassed at all to show off a new wife
when they knew the old one too?

Does he think about it?
Does he wish that he could remove the old one from history
so that he could introduce the new to the people they once knew?
Oh I forget. He did that. He took the new back in time
across the continental divide and showed her to the people
who knew the old. He did erase her in their minds.

Only the old is embarrassed to be replaced.
Only the old thinks of these things.
She is not busy being new
and so remembers.

But old and new are such common occurrences
that no one thinks anything of it now.
It is how it is.
That’s all.
Out on the path, I wait for her
my friend who’s just for me.
We play and sing and laugh a lot,
though no-one else can see.

You call her imaginary,
but she’s real and best of all,
she’s made a solemn promise
to be here when I call.

My mum says she’s not really there,
though the truth is mum don’t know
the fun me and my friend have had
or the places that we go.

We get lost in the forest
and fly up to the stars,
then sit upon the rooftops
throwing jelly beans at cars.

We’ve dug up buried treasure
and stared Blackbeard in the face.
And we’ve ridden Pegasus
to see the earth from space.

If you think I may be fibbing,
I’ll tell you it’s no lie -
to say we’ve seen most everything,
my secret friend and I.

But now the time is ticking,
she’s never usually late.
But here I am still waiting
sitting by the gate.

I feel the world revolving
as seasons come and go.
I never thought she wouldn’t come,
but perhaps I finally know.

That secret friends are mortal
and don’t last forever,
but I’m quite sure I won’t forget
the times we spent together.

I think I hear the clock indoors
chiming half past four.
The day has almost passed without her,
I’m not so little anymore.

But, just as I turn to go inside,
I hear the squeaking gate
“I’m so sorry,” my friend cries
“I didn’t mean to be this late”!

The world turns again to greet the moon
and my friend and I shall roam,
weaving in and out of dreams
making memories our own.

So, grown-ups if you’re finding,
modern life hard to survive,
wait a while, by the gate
you never know who may arrive.

Though you may not have seen them
for about a hundred years,
secret friends remain with us
and help allay our fears

that we all grow old and crinkly
and forget how to dance and laugh
just have a little patience
and pause there on the path.
A pair of hands, smooth as glass
Still now and for always,
burnished and gnarled
skin shiny over ever-bent knuckles.

Held in stark relief on the sheet
that smells faintly of spring,
in this winter room,
my Grandfather's hands stopped moving.

No more to whittle or turn,
the lathes seep their oil
into the sweet, still air
in my Grandfather's shed.

Smoothed wood handles,
worn by love and perfect sense,
songs and whistles linger
sawdust shapes drawn by little fingers.
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