Baby if you call me at 4 am,
Too sad to even say hello,
I will listen to your sadness,
Until you fall asleep.

He picked me up
And put me back together
Healed my broken pieces
Gave me the safety that I craved
Then he ripped me back apart
Threw me down
And took it all away

I just hope that she was worth it.

I resolve to break my resolution.

My mother is a piano
A little out of tune
Dusty keys
That play with ease
Ivory as the moon

Sometimes I’ll touch the wood
And admire its antiquity
Think of all the things that it
Ever dreamed to be

Sometimes when my fingers
Fly through a song
I wonder how this piano
Ever got so strong.

My mother is a piano,
She makes music out of air,
She answers each finger
With an embrace, with care

Her legs planted firmly
in the ground
How much I love to hear
her deep, rich sound.

I’m a poet
And didn’t know it

Until a teacher put a pencil in my hand
And told me to write something grand

So I wrote and I wrote
Until I had built myself a boat

I made the teacher cry
But I made the oceans dry

My boat couldn’t sail away
And neither could I stay

So I wrote myself a plane
But jtes were taken by a crane

So I wrote myself a car
But it couldn’t get very far

So then I wrote a bike
But the wheels fell off near the pike

So then I wrote a pair of shoes
But someone stole them, gave me a bruise

At last I wrote about my own two feet
Surely nothing those could beat

count the freckles
that dot your skin
as you would count
the stars in the sky

s.s