electric pulses
singing the skin
hearing her cries
desperate to win
lies when she can
plasters a grin
head games as always
pushing them in
what kind of mother
poisons her kin
and cries to the heavens
'it's my children who sin!'

Explain your mind
The thoughts that sink you
Into an ocean of depression

Explain your legs
That are powerless
Staying in one place

Explain your arms
Weakness that they carry
Seemingly pointless

Explain your smile
Explain it
Explain it now
Now
Explain
Explain
Seriously

How are you still looking up?
Smiling?

What I want you to do
Explain yourself.

I stand alone, because I choose to do what's right.  I want to be an example, to those who are before my sight.
I stand alone; I take pride in what I say and do.  I refuse to cause someone to stumble, in things they need to follow through.
I stand alone, to sacrifice my time.  I desire to impart wisdom, to help advance people's mind.
I stand alone, to travel the right road.  I aim to go in the right direction, so others can reach their goal.
I stand alone, to reach out for success.  I long to do my best, in passing life's test.
By, Sandra Juanita Nailing

I sometimes wish
we conversed more
you and I,
but we rarely did.

We both preferred
the silence
to over talk;
each shared

a Stoic philosophy,
Spartan in our ways,
even in our former days.  
Sometimes, my son,

I wish I had said more
and you to me,
but it wasn't our way;
I guess we were

more alike
than I thought,
preferring reason,
to emotional turmoil,

preferring the calm
before the storm,
our quiet hand
upon the helm of ship,

our steadiness
against the tides
of trudging time.
I wish that we

had said more in words
to each the other
over the recent years,
before your death

had silenced you,
before the grief set in
and tore
at soul and mind.

I still converse with you,
my son,
but in a different
manner now,

more open,
more expressive,
knowing you will hear
in your quiet way,

even after death,
after days, months
and years, after hurt
and pain and tears.

I wish sometimes
we conversed more
you and I,
that we had said

the things that now
I wish to say,
but we were more alike
than I thought then,

not just father and son,
but kindred
philosophical
gentle men.

I was unprepared for your lack of self-awareness
and the way you approach life like a
kid running the wrong way with the ball
Sometimes I feel like your mother
sending you to your room so you can tantrum
Other times I feel like your daughter
when you lay out my pill as if I can’t take it myself
There is a difference between being creative and indecisive
between sensitivity and overreacting
You have to find who you are, and stop lifting so many lids
your anxious energy is clinging to my calm like a parasite
eventually, you need to find a calm of your own
take your spinning outside inward, where things are still
I want to help you, and I will, because I love you
but rarely, rarely, do I feel like your lover
partly because I don’t want to anymore
I don’t want your touch, I don’t want your kiss
your hands are annoying me, please let me sleep
I don’t want to gag and choke on your tongue
just rest for a while, so I can figure out how to do this

I want you.
I want to snuggle between your arms and your chest, wrap my legs up with yours and feel you breathe.
I want to nuzzle into the curve where your neck meets your shoulder and feel your warmth against my skin.
I want you to kiss me and rub my hair softly like you do sometimes.
I want to mumble sleepily into you and somehow you understand.
I want to laugh and goof off together and curl up under blankets and feel safe and warm in your arms.
I want to lie a little bit away and watch your expressions and play with your hair.
I want to stroke the soft skin on your cheek and neck and kiss you.
I want to say I love you a thousand times and once more for luck.
I want to slip my hands under your shirt and press them against your back to pull myself towards you and nuzzle into you and breathe you in.
I want to press close and confuse your heart beat and the motion of your lungs.
Mostly as long as I'm close to you, I feel safe.

I thought you'd write about the other night
and you'd turn it into some beautiful dream so that our memories could start to seem a little more pure…
as pure as the moonlight pouring over our bodies,
as pure as your breath on my neck.

sometimes I wish I couldn't sleep at night,
so I'd be a little more like you, my heart would be a bit more blue and my love, a bit more pure…
but for some bitter-sweet reason I sleep peacefully until dawn, and I rise with a smile, awake with a yawn. our intertwined arms unfortunately fading, and it's heart-breaking, but my heart is stronger now, and colder, like a stone;
so I guess now I'm a little like you.