feeling depressed
     doesn't mean, nessisarily that i am
             depressed
i want people
            cuddles
            hugs
            kisses
                           but i don't want
                     my depressed mood
                                 to rub off on anyone
                i hold dear
                          it's simply not fair

I saw the saddest scene today,
when a boy— now a year older—
abandoned his bicycle because she was older.

Enticed by lust, on his new bike he rode away,
caught up in the moment—he didn’t mean to scold her—
yet no second was spared to look back over his shoulder.

I stopped watering my lawn, eyes where the bike lay,
imagining the loneliness felt when he disowned her,
and I felt emptier than a bike’s seat with no owner.

Even inside my home, on my conscience it weighed
because of their tryst, there was another knower.
“He took her for a ride, and he didn’t even know her.”

In my mind I console her, such idle words I say,
for nobody’s pedaling foot would ever suit her
until that pettler’s foot stopped blocking the suture.

“I was like you recently, so for you I pray,
though, the absence was open and lacked closure;
hopefully, your steel frame employs better composure.

“Nostalgia will make him pine for his yesterday,
pictures’ll frame the story of love lost when he’s older.
In time, loving hands will lift you up,” I told her.

A flower cannot unblossom,
but it can stay beautiful forever.
Put in a book-- thin as pressed papers--
all while its holder's fingers hover over.
There it stays safe until the book is closed,
the flower's fate, from then on, is unknown.

I draw lines like a map
and walk along its coast.
The tempests of one day,
seem to quell by the next.  
After the sand's the swell's host,
my troubled tides pull away.

I bathed in a steam shower, I still feel impure.

You think that I'm weak
and don't see what you seek.
Wise eyes can see through trees,
but can't stop a deer from stepping into the street.
An arrogant doe not yet peaked,
stares into the headlights,
whose dangers she can't see.
What matters is that they shine on you,
negligent to the fact that they blind you too.
Bathed in light a deer will never move,
lost in their bright Narcissistic pools.
Flying above, I can swoop and save,
but first you must be willed to look away.

I had a dream that felt quite like reality

To begin its tale I start with the day,
which opened the same as any other--
with my eyes fixated on a cigarette in an ashtray.

I put a light to another so he'd have a brother.
Hopping in the shower the lights and I shivered,
blanketed by warmth the cigarettes became a vase with a flower.

I faced the glass but refused the image mirrored.
No good would come from stalling to dress,
for a package, not mine, needed to be undelivered.

Soon I sat in a park with a friend and a board of chess,
he said, "You need not be here I know your worth,
others need to know you neglect them less."

Unsure what he meant, I still rose and went forth,
to the world of friends who tend to dislike me.
Back turned I heard young laughter and exited the mirth.

Walking in a desert forest, I grew to be rather thirsty.
I ignored the mountain lion that was out of place
and took shelter under an oasis's bourgeois.

Sweating in the cool shade, memory thought to erase
any action I took before I lay to rest.
As I looked down I saw a garden from space.

I had fallen asleep back into reality