Cockerel sunshine slips between the curtains
Energising dust to dance in beams
Lifting lethargy as I do the duvet
A good day I think.

This is not a poem / its a rambling / a tangle / a hurricane of all emotions / correction! / heartbreaks /  u have inflicted. / It might have been okay / if / you were sorry / instead of laughing as the pieces of my heart / shattered to the ground / like crystals / casting not a rainbow / but a shadow / on my bedroom wall. / Is there a happy ending? / Only time will tell / you will know when the grass turns blue / the sky turns green / and this becomes a poem.

I have a scalpel in my hand
     Placed just below my neck.
Sliding slowly down the center
     In between each breast.

Tightly grasping my new split chest
     I Pull wide for all to see.
Exposing with no shame
     The Heart that beats inside me.

Now Folding my hands together
     I Bring them up to a bowed head.
I'm Praying to the Lord above
     For strength. I'm wanting to be led.

For I am open in a cruel harsh world
     A defenseless sitting prey.
I have Chosen to reveal myself
     And face all the scrutiny.

My feet are firmly planted
     Standing strong in who I am.
Knowing any confrontation
     I surely can withstand.

Raising my bare fists before me
     Waging war on fear within.
With might and determination
     Each battle I will win.

My hand now stretches outward
     To another friend nearby.
One wanting to open up as well
     And no longer hide inside.


©Tina Thompson

he'll try hard to not
            just to prove
                        he can