Dear Rebeka,

Is it the same for you?

Anxiously bouncing your knees
while furiously scribbling notes.
Always taking glances
out the library windows.

Looking for nothing.
Nothing in particular.
just anything... ANYTHING OTHER
than a laptop screen
or another ******* lined piece of paper.

Upon exiting the prison, you find the outdoors enticing.
The sharp breeze flushing your cheeks,
The soft glow of evening
soothing the afterimages of fluorescent lighting.  

So cold your breath is tangible,
Hands tucked safely in your pockets,
Inhaling the night's air
like your drinking a tonic.

Thinking about home, and it's all so romantic.
Trying, but failing, to be more pragmatic.

**** it.
**** it.
**** it.  

Let's drop everything...
... and hop in the Prius.

All my love,
Jill

Words do not echo.
Words do not cry.
Words do not,
Identify.

Scrambled and stirred,
Frozen and baked.
Pulled when needed,
Eaten to be fed.

Pieced together,
Black or white,
Laugh or fight,
Wrong or right.

A sound is bound by key,
A picture by color pigments,
Emotions chemically,
But words contain,
Everything,
And absolutely,
Nothing.

The same word
Can be
Completely
Different,
Depending who, what, how
When it was read
Or written.

What if every word,
Was positive in meaning?
Harmless,
Could not
Destroy feelings.

Words have no senses.
Words have no bounds.
No touch, sight, taste, or smell.
Words have no sound.

Words have no sound.
Unless read aloud.

There's a screen door
That slams if you let it shut by itself.
The woven metal rattles distinctly.
It wakes my parents up,
Causes my dog to leap from her perch on the couch.

There are floorboards
That groan with each step.
The sanded surface is smooth.
It has this smell that fills the room,
It's old, but it's pleasant, and I liked to breathe it deeply.

There are windows
That fill the walls.
They let all the natural light in.
They're a great alternative
To the screen door when I'm locked out.

There's a doorframe
That sits at the top of the stairs.
It leads to parent's bedroom
We've marked all of our heights on it,
With different colored pencils.
That's my favorite part.

I don’t blame you at all, don’t worry

It’s only a dark blank spot
it’s all part of the journey,
But it’s like a 9 foot man carried by a rabbit
My knees are trembling, crush my spine while I’m at it
But that’s not the worst, broken bones can be fixed

But I lost both you and myself along the way,
and they will be missed

Silence means it’s all okay
That’s what they think, and that’s what they say
But let me tell you quiet is violent
Those with headaches, they tend to be silent
I miss your face, I miss my own,
Look at my reflection yeah I’m alone,
Not alone even I’m not here,

Is this mirror lying, is it being sincere?
I don’t recognize myself I used to be different
But now I’m even less,

I’m completely insignificant

The silence breaks bones,
It tears through my skull, 
leaving behind a feeling dull
My ears are ringing, but my soul keeps singing
It keeps finding words to a rhythm
All this clever symbolism
It’s only rambling by what’s left of my head,
left of my mind as I try,
Try to comprehend
Why am I not free?
What is wrong with me?
I’m just desperate to break my silence,
But it’s all that I have
And I crave Your guidance

Now I look into a mirror again, 
one of those reflective soul-capturing plates
with a friend
Is that a friend, no it must be me,
Looking at myself it’s alright sweet pea
You’ll be fine my friend
Something’s happening in your mind,
Don’t even try and comprehend
Open the slits in your face and communicate
All it needs is one little slip-up and it will be checkmate
Break the silence of your screams
I might bring forward streams,
of tears
But trust me that that is okay
Because all that’ll follow will go your way
It may be hard, it feels impossible
But now I’m not asking anymore my mirror-man friend,
It’s not optional

Silence means it’s all okay
That’s what they think, and that’s what they say
But let me tell you quiet is violent
Those with headaches, they tend to be silent
I miss your face, I miss my own,
Look at my reflection yeah I’m alone,
Not even alone even I’m not here,

Is this mirror lying, is it being sincere?
I don’t recognize myself I used to be different
But now I’m even less,

I’m completely insignificant

It’s like I’ve been pulled inside out,
Taken my mouth and put it into thought
I just miss your face my good old friend
We’ve been through so much, all the time we spent
Together and alone not a moment apart,
But now it starts to feel like you’re stepping on my heart

It’s crushed and I’m trying to glue back the pieces left
My palms are sweaty, and my mind is all stressed,
How could you do this,
turn against me like this

You’re the only friend in life that I simply cannot miss
I thought we were alike,
I thought we helped each other
But now you stabbed me in the back,

My brother
You stabbed me in the back,

My father

I pull the knife out without a second thought

I quickly push against my throat,
And there stands a man in a dark black coat,
Walking me through a well-lit town is what I wrote
I shouldn’t be here, I belong in that other town
No, said the man, as he spotted my frown
You belong here but now’s not the time
I only used this paradigm
To clear that face of yours, rub your eyes,
Now go kick down all those doors
Don’t stop because there will be light,
And you will be alright
You will

The silence breaks bones,
It tears through my skull, 
leaving behind a feeling dull
My ears are ringing, but my soul keeps singing
It keeps finding words to a rhythm
All this clever symbolism
It’s only rambling by what’s left of my head,
left of my mind as I try,
Try to comprehend
Why am I not free?
What is wrong with me?
I’m just desperate to break my silence,
But it’s all that I have
And I crave Your guidance

sometimes
I close my eyes
to fall in love
with the way
I remember you

All was quiet at midnight
In the comfortable little house
Till Santa accidentally
Stepped on the dog's toy mouse.

The SQUEAK! sounded to Santa
As loud as a cannon boom!
He stopped in his tracks and waited
For silence to fill the room.

Carefully placing the presents
Under the Christmas tree,
He spied a plate of cookies
Next to a glass of Chablis.

Suddenly from the hallway
Came a little sound:
"Hold up your hands, Santa….
Now slowly turn around."

Complying with the order,
Santa turned. Behold!
Identical twins stood there--
Barely five years old.

Both were holding toy guns.
Santa all the while
Had to struggle to keep
From breaking out in a smile.

"We just saw you closing
Mommy and Daddy's door,"
Said one. "We want to know
What you were looking for."

"I had to make sure," said Santa,
"That they were fast asleep.
You know how our Mommies
Hear every little peep."

The boys squinted their eyes,
Not sure what to believe.
All they knew was that Santa
Wasn't the kind to deceive.

"I heard," said the other twin,
"From a friend of mine
That you like to drink milk;
But Daddy says you like wine."

Santa hesitated:
"Well…it depends on my mood.
Sometimes I like variety
Regarding my drink or my food."

The first asked, "Why are Santas--
The ones we see at the mall--
Big and round, but you
Look so skinny and small?"

"Santa works so hard
And he's up so very late,
By the time he is finished,
He's lost a lot of weight."

Santa mumbled softly,
"Will they buy that story,
Or am I going to sound
Trite and conciliatory?"

The dog came in from the hallway
Wagging his tail as though
He had been Santa's friend
From a long time ago.

"How does Sparky know you?"
Both boys asked, surprised.
"ALL pets love Santa,"
The wise man emphasized.

The twins were resolute,
And both remained suspicious.
"You know," said Santa wily,
"It wouldn't be judicious

"To keep detaining Santa.
He has lots to do.
Other kids are waiting
For presents, just like you."

"Ju-what?...Aw, never mind!"
Responded the second twin,
Coming around to realize
The hurry Santa was in.

"We hope we get what we asked for.
But one thing we want to make clear:
If all we get is clothes,
You'll be in trouble next year."

Santa winked and smiled.
"Deal!" he firmly said.
Now put down your weapons
And go back to bed."

While drifting off to sleep
In their beds shortly thereafter,
The two boys heard some mumbling
Accompanied by laughter.

They shot out of bed in the morning--
Slightly after dawn.
The first thing they noticed was
The wine and cookies were gone.

But glasses resembling their dad's
Had been left behind.
Their dad said he could wear them
If Santa didn't mind.

- by Bob B

I am that kind of girl who will just smile
but in deep inside I'm tearing apart.

I am that kind of girl who you will act that I'm happy for the both of you but deep inside it hurts like hell.

I am that kind of girl that will back-off
when I see you already flirting with someone. Even if it's tearing my heart.

I am that kind of girl who will give up my own happiness for you to be happy.

I am that kind of girl who loves to read books
because I can't have you in real life.

I am that kind of girl who jokes a lot
but some of them are the truth.

Yes, I am that kind of girl who  will continue and
forever to love you even though you already love someone else.

I AM THAT KIND OF GIRL

The mailman dropped a letter in our box
for Mrs. Tovia Durkan who has not lived

at our address for forty four years
and is now buried in a small cemetery

surrounded by a black wrought
iron fence and glorious mums,

we are now the caretakers of
a letter sent to a Jewish widow

leaving us to feel responsible
to attend the Bat Mitzvah of

12-year-old Sophie Bravermann;
do we bring a gift?

What ever happened
To the apology
Where did it go
When did it leave
Did it go with the right
Because we're never wrong
Did it not see the signs
Caution...falling souls
What ever happened
To the apology

What ever happened
To the I'm sorry
We used to give it away
Ever so freely
Now it only comes out
When we are caught
Beg, steal or borrow
Because it's never our fault
What ever happened
To the I'm sorry

Yet, if either were given
Could we forgive
If it was truly heartfelt
Would we believe it
We question the motive
As explanations are made
Never accepting a word
They have to say
If either were given
Could we ever forgive