You throw yourself at my feet like a child, arms all splayed and
Ready to welcome.

The words you speak are so sweet like mid-morning dew, honey of the night is all that
Remains in the morning.

Your soul aches to know what it is like to be in my arms, but my arms ache with the
Weight of your soul.

The hope you put into this "thing" is beautiful and frightening, being ready to give up
All you have gained.

Knowing the hurt and pain of my darkened past does not throw you, and you
Are always near.

But can you not see all the confusion and twisted branches that have become the
Life I live?

Do you really have a desire to climb to the top of this tree, for fear of falling head-first
Is always there?

I flip and balk and retreat and retrace and say "I don't know," but you are always
Waiting with a hand.

In the wings of my life you wait until the curtain is open and the stage is set, the trap door open and the
Time is right.

Sometimes it feels so natural to let a man's hands run over my body, feeling every dip and curve and bump and bruise that exists.  It is almost as if his hands and his longing are physical manifestations of my new-found womanly confidence.  I have reached a point where I am comfortable in my own skin and ready to celebrate.  I want to celebrate like there is no tomorrow and do something a little crazy, a little stupid, live one more breath of this night and one more kiss of this dream.  Right now everything just feels so real and raw.  To feel a man's touch on a body still so young is nothing to be afraid of - it is something to cherish and hold dear, for it only happens a short while.

Sometimes it feels so natural to wear a short skirt and walk with a sway in my hips, each step with my heeled feet and long legs echo across the floor.  There is something in the reverberance that acts as a fire in my soul, the flames within as courage on the outside.  The sway of my hips work wonders as tickets to concerts, the pass to the front of the line, filling my empty hand with a full drink.  It is a drug of sorts and something that I cannot get enough of.  I take what is handed to me for the short while that it is available.  Wearing my short skirt and tall shoes, I sway my hips to the beat of a different drummer while I can.

Sometimes it feels so natural to drink to my heart's content and my stomach's contempt.  I drink to make the pain and the thoughts and the worries and the stress melt away as my body melts on the dance floor.  I become one with the music and one with the night.  Carefree and unconcerned I drink until it is dawn.  It feels so wonderful to live like there is no tomorrow with no regrets.  When I drink I drink to darken the past and brighten the future.  The sultry sway of my hips become the sloshing of a boat about to be capsized.  The running hands over my body turn into drunk fumbling and clumsy fingers.  But I drink while I can and enjoy while I can.

Sometimes it feels so natural to be so bad - defiant and strong and a will to do whatever I choose.

Your body is a minefield. Barbed and razor wire engulf me in each hug. Cut and torn and ****** I enter the war zone of past heartache, heartbreak, broken bones, and souls. Bodies lie scattered across the cracked dry ground, tears shed too late to save yourself from one more casualty. Sweat glistens off my ***** brow. My heart pounds within my chest as bombs go off around. With each thunderous roar and shaking of ground I force myself to run the distance of history itself. I fall. Crawl my way through muddy emotions to the epicenter of this full-raging battle. My blackened, *****, grief-torn nails reach, with one last dying breath, to touch your radiant soul.



*January 13, 2013

Head and Heart
connected.
One in one
and
two in two
work like clockwork,
machinery.
Push and pull
with
give and take.
A balancing act
judged.
World of love
and
planet of hate
combine and conquer
all.
Ignore the head
but
hide the heart.



*January 4, 2011

Hello Friend.
Where shall we meet?
Travel to that childhood place
That was our retreat.

Hello Friend.
What can we do?
Let us touch the stars
To make dreams come true.

Hello Friend.
Will you be mine?
Your lips and my life
I wish to combine.

Hello Friend.
When will this end?
The existence of us
We cannot comprehend.

Hello Friend.
Which path do I take?
The one to the left
Could be a mistake.

Hello Friend.
Who are you to judge?
I know my fate
And will not budge.

Hello Friend.
Whose heart have you stole?
Here I will be
When you need control.

Hello Friend.
How do you see?
I will be here
If you shall ever need me.



*November 13, 2010

Hello You.  Please give me a minute.  A passage in time, you can set a limit.  I am before you now, hoping to be true.

Hello You.  How have you been?  Alone and forgotten, I hope have made amends.  It is just me, asking if I can too.

Hello You.  I am here to persist.  Interject and interrupt, can I answer you in earnest?  I have stopped the crying, and bring a new view.

Hello You.  Can you read between the lines?  This is me beginning; this is me entering a new kind.  You, only you, hold what I need: a clue.



*November 11, 2010

I noticed one day that my clothes did not fit. They hung off my body like sheets hung outside on the line to dry. A forgotten place. A forgotten face. Your cotton shirt, worn smooth from nights against my skin, now lies rough and ragged, tossed to the floor and kicked to the laundry bin. The trash bin of fabric. Trash talking hearts and hopeless lies try to piece this life together once more. But this shirt. It is old, out of date, out of style, full of holes. Holes once filled are now threadbare from past patches. Mended and then washed only to unravel again. My clothes are hung outside to dry in the coldest winter. And I am left with nothing to wear.



*January 14, 2013

My soul yearns to know what it is like to soar, with full-fledged living. But I am yet a gosling, so small and helpless.

Opened, outstretched downy wings. Tip to tip I learn each motion. Muscles, smooth and lithe, lie in wait for when they will become. Freedom.

Pulsing and pumping they will pull my body from this broken land and ****** it into the unknown.

Higher and higher I will climb into the war-torn sky. The scared and brittle earth of my first home will become nothing but the fleeting past. Broken bits and pieces of a life once had cast into the memory of nothingness. Forgotten. Left to decay in the world I have just left behind. As if it never was.

So easy it is. To be free. To live this life and breathe each breath without doubt or shadow. Becoming my own and cherish each moment as a lifelong joy. No end, no finish, no land in sight. Just open sky and cool air beneath my wings. No destination. No regrets. No history. No memory of gosling down.

Full-fledged ivory wings.



*January 13, 2013

Warm and glowing
in this field, running
to meet you.
Mark this time
and place, mine
for all eternity.
In seasons new
we live this life, free
forever and always.
Hold my hand
this starry night, fingers
intertwined and connected.
Watch the nightlight
swell to morning, leave
it all behind.
One more day
until we meet, again
playing with reality.



*January 26, 2011

It's out with the old
And in with the new.

Spring cleaning
Rids my closet of

Bony skeletons
And chests of horrors.

All those times,
All those memories

That were swept
Under the rug,

Shake them out,
Beat the dust,

The feelings until
Last October's filth

Becomes clean again.
Repaint this room.

Refurbish that sofa.
Redo the tile.

Run your hand
Down the banister.

Feel the cinder's from
Last fall's fire,

The remnants, the remains.
Make my building

Like new again,
Untouched, as if

For the first time,
For the first buyer.



*May 11, 2011

I just wanted to say thanks
thanks for caring
thanks for sharing
thanks for dreaming
thanks for scheming
thanks for living
thanks for giving
thanks for believing
thanks for achieving
thanks for adoring
thanks for exploring
thanks for being
thanks for seeing
thanks for doing



*January 21, 2011

Tell me of love.

It is warm. A feeling of devotion and longing and connection. A journey. Something special and cherished. It is soft and gentle like a spring breeze turning onto a summer storm – barely noticeable until enveloping you.

Tell me of love.

It is a cliff you climb and when you reach the top, beauty and splendor are all around. You feel at peace and as one, as two, with the world. It is a kindness that flows from within and moved from center heart, spreads out the body and through the fingertips as arms outstretch to another’s golden sun.

Tell me of love.

It is a fire burning hot with emotion – beautiful, playful, dimensional. One false breath can extinguish, one small spark ignites a wildfire. It is a desire, a yearning. A push and pull or hearts and interests. Give and take and mostly take. Compromising for compatibility.

Tell me of love.

It is inevitable. As death comes to every living thing so does the inevitable love. It passes as merely a shadow in only those lives that were touched by its once hot passionate fire, burning then fleeing. Love is a reaper of souls. A spark, passion, a journey, a trial, heartache, parting, sorrow.

Love is life.

Tell me of life.



*December 2012

Time
counting the grains of sand
each second
going through my hourglass
of existence

Time
fixed to one location
unchanging
no force can alter the effects
of movement

Time
in rhythm with all hearts
blood pumping
like sands of time through
the hourglass



*January 28, 2011

when I just had to laugh
when I needed to cry
when I was being bold
when I felt a little shy

when I lost my way
when I found a path
when I was filled with joy
when I felt only wrath

when I lived in the moment
when I danced till dawn
when I loved this feeling
when I knew you were gone

when I accepted my fate
when I challenged the norm
when I struggled and searched
when I survived the storm

To those times in my life
Plus events yet to unfold
Thank you for defining me
And filling my mold



*November 18, 2010

Raindrops on sidewalks echo the sound
Of my hollow steps. Left, right, left,
Right?
Forever forward to a destiny that
Hides in the shadows. Going, going, going,
Gone?
A life unfolds with hollow form
Waiting to be filled. Empty, full, empty,
Full?
Hollow steps the shadows be filled
With beginnings and endings. Life, death, life,
Death?



*January 6, 2011

When I was nineteen
I learned to procreate.

Sparks were flying and fears were moving and hearts were beating and hands were racing and bodies were sweating and hormones were raging. We were wrapped up tight in your Target sheets, gasping for each breath as if our end we would meet. Our eyes averted. We were so nervous. This new act of pleasure drove us deeper and deeper. We hoped we would stay, we hoped and we prayed and we loved until that day.

I said no more. You cursed and slammed the door. This wasn't for us, I couldn't take it. I wasn't tough.
You begged and pleaded to be forgiven. I was done pleasing and was ready to listen to reason.
That day was the last and I said I ain't coming back. You kept pulling me down so I said **** it and I turned around.

Around to my other guy, because I wasn't happy with the one by my side. To my back up beau waiting for me after school. He was there on the long nights as I wiped my tears from saying my goodbyes. He held my hand and listened to my plan of the two of us finally making it after two years of struggling and suffocating in our relationships, our individual emotional abyss. This was our time, our time to shine. Time to let go and be happy and be free and be who we wanted to be. All I needed was him and all he needed was me.

But that crashed and burned.

What we thought was forever was only a game. Heartstrings were pulled and heartache was made. Disaster full on. Before I knew it he was gone. Two years of my life were erased just like that, like a single mistake where all you had to do was backspace. I cried my eyes out and I banged my head and I avoided you and I wished I was dead. I gave you my heart on that very first day and you kept it for two years and then you threw it away.

Twenty one today and I've come a long way from the girl that cried over broken hearts and broken minds. I'm strong and it's true, I love someone, I do but it's in a different way because today's another day. I don't have to live worrying about what ifs and the past. It's gone and it's over and I'm thankful for that. You both made me cry, my arms up to the sky pleading and begging for something so dear, but how did I know I would find it right here? Now I've got my heart together and I wear it on my sleeve, proud but protected from any would-be's. I'm happy and I'm healthy and I feel joy and I want to sing. This life I am living, I can't imagine any other thing.



*September 20, 2013

stop for a minute, weary wanderer
come and join me at the river
take off your pack, your boots, your troubles
and lay with me in the shade of the elm tree
dip your feet in the cool, cold waters
and sing to me of your journeys
the soles of your feet, the harmony
the sweat of your face, the melody
let it be your time traveler tune



*December 10, 2010

Welcome to the in-between
He says with arms spread wide
A gesture of welcome beset by a smirk of things to come
Make yourself at home
He says
If a home is what you are looking for

Welcome to the in-between
They say with empty faces
Soul-searching travelers and social outcasts greet one another
Make yourself at home
They say
If a home is what you are looking for

Welcome to the in-between
A little girl says with slight hesitation
She guides me to a bunk and helps unpack my few belongings
Make yourself at home
She says
If a home is what you are looking for

Welcome to the in-between
The man says with stern eyes
He gestures to my things as the others take them away
Make yourself at home
He says
If a home is what you are looking for

Welcome to the in-between
I say to the newest arrival
A smirk on my lips and eyes empty as I greet with slight hesitation
Make yourself at home
I say
If a home is what you are looking for



*December 20, 2010

run with me
through the woods
we once called home
up and over
the fallen trees
right on down
to the waterfall
climb the hidden stairs
where youthful insight and
imagination ran wild
take my hand
hold
breathe
close your eyes
and jump
fall through the times
we once called home
in these woods
we once called home
let gravity grab hold
to the memories
we lived that day
that time
that year
we once called home
hit the water
and reach for the surface
of our lives anew
to this time
we now call home



*January 18, 2011