What's the most difficult word in the
                                                                        tio                                          
                                                       dic      
                                                                                      na
                                                                                                 r
                                                                                                      y?
well
for a shy person,

it's hello.

When I was younger,
a moment of existential
panic would have my
buttons coming undone
for boys who didn't care why
but sure loved how.

I'm more beautiful now,
less given to panic, and I
undress for you like this:
one story at a time –  a
metaphoric bump and grind.
I shimmy out of all my lies.

In the wake of morning I am dying,
My child screaming,Happy Birthday, Dad.
I need my fire to stop the crying,
Purse my lips, the last cigarette I had.
She clambers into my smoke-gray walled room,
Innocence is a baby's white smile,
This contagious cancer is my gloom.
I am her murderer, still she would smile.
I often swore I would quit this **** thing,
For my daughter's sake, not my own **** life;
And always failed, this poison is my king.
It is her lungs that goes the smokey knife.
This selfish ****** turns my whole world gray.
Stupid. By my side, my daughter does stay.

To see life.

To get away from it;
A bold attempt to change
     ourselves.
Or to simply start anew.

When we take up that
           brave title-
Traveler|
         when we give up home
     to live on out feet...
We call ourselves free.
              It is true,
as freedom goes,
         It is truest on the road.

Concerns concern us not,
Suddenly everything is purposed,
And all objects are charged with meaning.

I feel as though I'm falling
And **** myself awake

But sleep is a feast
And I'm starving

Tumbling, twirling
leaves en masse.
Seasons arrive
and then will pass.

Brilliant hues
Of orange and red
Scatter across
Warm Summer's bed.

So brief the fall
in its passing.
Cool crisp air,
vibrant leaves flashing.

Soon, too soon
The colors fade
And bitter Winter
spreads its shade.

I don’t usually rate flowers as a gift.
Somehow the words on the tag never match
the message they’re sending.

The tag read "Congratulations on the birth of your beautiful baby boy”
The message was What the hell were you thinking?
A baby at your age! Life as you know it is over.

The tag read “Wishing you luck and happiness in your new home”
The message was I wouldn’t live there if you paid me.
Lock your windows and don‘t make friends with the locals.

You get the idea.

But this time there is no tag.
He’s just given me a good old fashioned, honest, upfront
I wanna get into your knickers bouquet.

And I'm thinking **** it, why not?

Missing you daily.
Thoughts seeping in, caressing.
Wanting, constantly.