The dress wears the woman
She needs to be confident
Stand tall, chin up
That is how they pick you

You think you decided to twirl,
That was the gown
She wants to be shown off
She wants to dance

The crowd does not adore you
You are no one
A pretty face, a slim figure
That dress, she is the star

Now twirl.

How many?
How many poems?
How many breaths?
How many tears? tissues?
Cups of tea? blankets?
Hugs? cookies?
How many?
Give me a formula.
Perfect addition, let me
Figure out how many of
These little comforts will
make up the
sum,
of my
happiness.

Don't shy away
Step in it
Firm, plant your boots
Squish, until your
Submerged
Slick, dark
Let it engulf you,
You are no longer,
You
You are Earth,
Dirt, roots, and worms
Stay a while, then
Grow, sprout
There, see the sun?
It is brighter now, yes?
Grow,
Up, out
There,
You've bloomed

Both, are escapes.
I write when I need to express
When I am bursting with emotion,
I pick up the pen.

I pick up the brush, to distract.
Don't focus on the tears, no.
Focus on the eyes, lips, cheekbones.

My face is a landscape.
I plant flowers on my lids and lips,
Trim my eyebrows,
Grow my lashes.

A sense of accomplishment, at the end.
In the mirror my beauty shines,
A little more brightly.
I forgot why the tears visited.
My pink lips smile.

Emotions are friends,
and enemies.
They bring you to the
top of the mountain,
only to push you off.
I wonder, what it
would be like,
to have none.
No friends, or foes.
Simply alone,
existing.
Never climbing the
mountain, reaching the top.
Never to see the world,
in all it's beauty.
It is worth the risk
of falling.

It is the bottom of the deep end
It is the highest apple on the tree
It is a perfect score on the test
It is a goal, a finish line
It is something we all like to think we have
It is the belief we can do anything
It is unique to every person
It is wasted by many
It is my biggest fear, that
I will never reach my own.

White, cold, wet, sharp
It stings, nips
It buries,
Buries you in its
Heavy blanket
Let it, do not fight
This cold coffin
Could be home
Let the sharp breaths
Stab your lungs
Allow the wetness to
Wash you away
Become the cold, the ice
Disappear in the white-
Be at peace.

I think of pain,
as a mouse.
It finds it's way into
your home, your heart.
And you try everything
to get rid of him.
Set all the traps.
The mouse simply
avoids them.
He finds a corner,
never seen or heard.
We forget it is there.
Make peace.
Then one day,
something happens
to bring it out.
A ripe cheese.
A photo.
And the cycle repeats.

I am glad you
Have her now
She must fit
Better, I think
Her hands in yours,
Your bodies
Wrapped together.
We never fit,
We were
Two puzzle pieces
That look as if
They belong, and
You try, you try to
Force them to bend and
Fit together,
But you can’t.
Maybe I was too big,
Or you to sharp,
We almost fit.
I hope she does,
I hope she is your
Missing puzzle piece

Be mine, be mine.
You, over there.
With strong hands,
A gentle smile.
Will you be mine?
No, you don't know me,
But you will.
Every part, if you want.
We could be soul mates.
You don't believe in them?
Me either. I was joking.
Will you still be mine?

Rise. Stretch your limbs. Let them crack. Ease them into the new day. New day. Freshen your eyes. Let them see. New day. Beautiful day. A good day. Put on your face. Fix your hair. Smile, smile. New day. Same you. Dress. There, a new you. Leave, go. School, work. Smile, say hi. Don’t keep to yourself. Other people make you happy. Remember? Drink coffee that helps. Eat, don’t forget to eat. Try to learn, you like learning. Now, dance. Let your limbs move. Let them feel. Let them be free. Then shower. Wash away the day. The meaningless minutes. The empty hellos. Now, lie down. Rest. Wasn’t that a good day? Sleep. Tomorrow, will be exactly the same.

What would happen?
If my heart beat was
too fast? too powerful?
If my lungs expanded,
more, more?
Breathe, pump, breathe
More
Expand my loves
More, and more
With every breath,
every pump,
the cage cracks.
Go on, more
push, expand
until I burst.

A rib cage.
Rib. Cage.
Your rib cage.
Cage.
Lock.
Key.
Your heart,
Lungs.
Breath and
Soul.
Locked in,
safe.

Pick up the pencil
Pick it up
Let it out

Let it soar
Out of the
Lead

Allow it to
Spill over
The page

Your thoughts,
Are melodies

Your words,
Are music

Pick up the pencil
Write,
A symphony.

The quickest way,
To a women’s heart,
Is through her ears.

When she hears
Hypnotic melodies,
Those sweet nothings.

Start with her ears
Soon her body follows
One with the sound.

Music will sweep
Her off her feet.
Twirl her around.

Find the right tune
She will always
Come back for more.

Get her moving,
In that blissful state,
Of just being
And she’ll be yours.

Just a little something,
A note, a smile, a hello.

Just a little something,
To keep, to hold, to have.

Just a little something,
I cannot let go.

Just one person.
One person, one body.
Two hands, two eyes.
One bed.

Just two people.
Two people, two bodies.
Four hands, four eyes.
One bed.

Give me the crowded bed.
The tangled limbs,
Perfectly warm.
Let my sleepy eyes open,
To you.

In the morning when your eyes can barely open, open them.
In the morning when silence is a gift, cherish it.
In the morning when the sun is not your friend, greet her.
In the morning when your blanket is your lover, leave him.
In the morning when the cold pushes you down, rise up.
In the morning when the day mocks you, laugh back.
This is the morning where everything can change,
Embrace it.

Two little girls in a seashell frame,
Posing on the beach.
Can you see the family resemblance?

The first girl is tall, ghostly white skin, and a bony, slender frame.
With hunched shoulders, she makes herself disappear.
She is a magic trick.
With a ****** in stomach,
She is the girl who was cut in half.

The second girl is shorter, with darker, glowing skin,
A body with curves.
She makes herself bigger.
Stretched out arms, skin spills out over her swim suit.

She points, staring at the camera.
Daring anyone to tell her she’s wrong,
That her body isn’t perfect.

The girls grow up being told they’re mistaken.
Skinny is confidence,
Chubby is shame.

Look, can’t you see?
Confidence is defiance,
It is a presence, it is taking up space.

Over time, the sun blesses the pale girl,
Scatters kisses over her body.

She is now the night sky,
With new constellations,
Beautiful in a different way.

Over time, her sister becomes the sun,
Opposites, in their beauty and brightness,
Yet equal all the same. And her sister
Teaches her how to defy everyone,
Who wants her to disappear.

A sunny summer day,
A lonely country road,
He’s driving;
But he is not here.

He is in 1982
With his long black locks,
A mischievous smile
And a rebel attitude.

Young bodies fill the car,
Along with a tangible excitement
Of what the night will bring.

His lanky body sprawled in the passenger seat
A cigarette hanging from his mouth
Beer in his lap.

Hoots and giggles fill the silent summer night
As they cruise through town,
The car is the party.

He is in 1982
But I am in 2015

His worn body sprawled in the driver’s seat
A cigarette hanging from his mouth
A mischievous smile as he points out
All of the old hangout spots.

Stories, he is made of stories.
Friends, fights, pranks, parties.
He tells them as if they were
Yesterday.

He runs a hand through his short,
White speckled hair
The lines on his face turn down-
His eyes twinkle,
He’s laughing again.

Blasting the radio,
Head bobbing, voice screaming along
To his favorite Godsmack song.

Music fills the silent summer day
As we travel through town
Leaving one home
For another.

For Sunday mornings, and
Autumn air
For sisterly love,
For a father’s humor, a mother’s knowledge

For The Book Thief and To **** a Mockingbird,
For every word that has touched my soul
And for the souls who shared them with me

For sorrow, joy
For kindness, friendship
For all the blessings a day gives.

For all of the times I did not say it
I say it now