Daisies, tulips, petunias,
orchids, and roses.

The flowers all speak to me.

I perk up my ears
to better hear them
when they whisper
in hushed undertones:

"she loves you not."

Couldn't be more grand!
They "catch your drift"
They understand.

The company of writers
The company of folks
Who "get" your pain
Laugh at your jokes!

They know the need
For being heard
Most people think
Our "play" absurd
And how expression
Can be burred
And inspiration
When it occurs
Can clear the mind
of weeds and burrs
They don't know
The written word.

Through a world
As black as pitch
It's a puzzle
It's a *****
I don't know
I can't say which
Is worse... the scratching...
Or the itch!

But you, my friend
Are part of me
You have my eyes
So you can see
Though we may bicker
And disagree
We are poets

Our mind's are FREE


SoulSurvivor
(C) 5/27/2015

Angelina, I'm sorry you're so sad.
Angelina, I'm so sorry that your stomach hurts.
If I could fix everything I would, honey.
Just let me hug your little frame.
We're at such different speeds, we're such opposites.
Why do I like you so much?
I haven't wrote a love poem about anyone but Ricky in a long long time.
And I wouldn't call this love, but more like infatuation.
You're so adorable, and cute.
Angelina, I'm your friend, and I'll be here for whatever you need.
I care about you, just let me help you.
Angelina, I'm sorry I can't do anything for you.
I'm sorry you're so sad.

Could you sleep last night?

I read somewhere
that when you struggle
to sleep at night,
you are actually awake
in someone else's dream
and have them to blame
for your bleary-eyed
stumbling and grumbling
the following morning.

And I awoke today
with a fresh memory
of a dream spent with you-
laughing and smiling
being together like we never have been
in the light of day.

So I want to know:
Did you sleep last night?
Or did you toss and turn
and failingly yearn
for comfort at last?

I want to be sure
that my dreamtime companion
was actually you
and not some
incomplete creation
of my unconscious imagination.

Am I okay?

I cry every night,
And can't breathe most days.

I sometimes want to die,
And feel buried by all the lies.

I have a broken heart,
And trust issues.

But also,

I smile at the little things,
And laugh for no reason.

I have hope in my heart,
And light in my eyes.

I am getting stronger,
And I will keep trying.

So:
Am I okay?
No.

Will I be okay?
**Yes

He cracked open my sternum
feasted eyes on muscular beats
punctured both set of heaving lungs
ruined the cleanest of my sheets.

Claimed alcohol confused corneas
that tiredness muffled defiant ears
that blood didn't register, that pain disappeared
that I did not say that word, that he did not hear.

He stoppered each tear which congealed
such angry belligerence, hey, we made a deal.
This was one mistake and one ruined so willingly,
those scratches were passion, why don't you see?

you should have been clearer, yes really, I was the flaw
you should have fought harder, barricaded that door,
douse yourself in fire and go clean up this mess
it's time like these I begin to love you even less.

He cracked open this sternum
smuggled in gifts unadorned,
and these days I wish I had murdered him
instead of the aftermath, unborn.