four little superheros
tucked up in bed
four little blonde heads
angelic smiles
and clasping hands

already met the old sandman...

they fought hard...but he
won....

four little superheros
their day....definitely done

I was such a beautiful child,
With my shoulder lengths of
Sun bleached barley.

Smiled little pearl soldiers in
Line. Old glassesless ladies
Took me for
Girlchild.

But I grew twisted like an
Appletree around a
Graveyard path
Lightpost.

Teeth came out crooked.
Hair fell out at thirteen.
I was big for my age;
Grew other hair in places
I never knew I would.

My voice broke as if in
Sorrow over the child
Inside that had
Died. After that I spoke as if
Into a bucket.

Sometimes I catch my father
Gazing at me through a slight veil
Of grievance for that same
Child.

I would never dream
To blame him.

i suffer from
that kind of
sadness that only
creeps in the
darkness of night,
forcing tears out
of my eyes.

                      i suffer from
                      that kind of
                      sadness that swings
                      like a pendulum
                      in your ribcage
                      for days, destroying
                      every heart vessel,
                      that soul-blackening
                      sadness.

do you remember calling me up in the middle of the night asking me to help you find your childhood and how i would run to your house and how we would race to the playground where you would sit on the swing while i pushed you so hard that you would scream and laugh and exclaim about how heaven was in this very place

do you remember my weak lungs trying hard not to give up and my fragile arms growing tired and my hands with callouses and how i got tired after pushing you a hundred times

do you remember asking me why i kept pushing you when i felt so weak and tired and sleepy

and i told you that i kept pushing because the definition of my happiness was seeing you four feet up in the ground with your cheeks stretched and your teeth and gums exposed in the grandest laugh and that the feeling of my heart beating quickly was the greatest feeling of all

and do you remember when you asked me a week ago why i still stayed with you when you felt that everything was getting tiresome for me?

it's because i want to see your smile and your hands holding tight and because you are that ******* the swing and i would push you until you find your childhood or even if you never find it at all

Scribbling of pens
The smell of paper
People wonder
Why I stay there
In my sanctuary
Of quiet and calm
Typing away
At my old battered laptop
The words flow freely
The thoughts do not
This has no rhythm
Nor any rhyme
But I like the way it is
Just fine.

If I could I would plant sunflower seeds
on every inch of my body
so I know that
one day
I would become
beautiful

who am I when I'm with you?
forgetting everything right
for a few good nights

who am I when I'm with you
giving up what I believe
for that greedy primal need

who am I when I'm with you
I don't even have a clue
tomorrow shows no truth

never mind the way you feel
or how perfect this deal
this cannot become real
I still need time to heal.