I am a lady.
I have flaws.
Some are my fault,
many are not.

I am a fighter
triumphing over
fears of the past and
the uncertain future.

Many who see me
will think me unbroken
and are shocked to witness
how much I have changed.

Others will mention
how glad they are seeing
that their base perception
of me is the same.

If I could build a house, it'd be of teak.
I'd plant it in a basin of cement
the shingles, swirling up to pine-like peak
would push through rainclouds as they came and went.
…
And yet, my house is crumbling debris
without you there to keep me company

The salt of the earth
Seasons fresh mirth
on the plates of the gifted among us.
Gifted with pride,
And holding inside
A wealth of greed stronger than all lust.

The colors in your eyes swirl through each other
Like chromatic snakes
Locked in embrace
Or perhaps a fight to the death.
Ring around the rosy;
I cannot catch my breath.
Their scales diffract my tiny face
And send me to another place
They leave me guessing
Too busy, impressing
You

The quakes run through my veins
The fire and the pain
Of tiny pieces of lead
Churning inside my head.

My first year I learned to do my work
The second one I learned to love it too
The third year I learned to talk to people
Finally, I fell in love with you

When I am with you, you shall find
I undoubtably lose my mind
I hate my life, I thrash, you sneer
You do this to me every year!

The pain is like a tearing scorcher
You subject me to such deadly torture
I will not stand it. I cannot.
I must not get another shot.

Goodnight
Sleep tight
Stick around another year for me
Put up with my strangeness
The occasional sameness
But branch out to others in your friendship tree

Fare thee well / Fare thee well.
May we never meet again
Until we both go back to hell.

Proudly standing, rigid trees
   Swaying gently in the breeze
We watch the shadows fall
   Switches whip, the twigs are severed
   Yet the mighty wood persevers
Awaiting its next call
   Day becomes night; sunshine ends
   Branches soon begin to bend
Raw bark peels in strips.
   Autumn comes; the trees must fight
   For each burning speck of light
Drudged from unwilling lips.
   We watch them quiver in the breeze
   The axe-man comes to fell the trees
The thinnest shall go first.
   Year by year, the seasons change
   We ignore the passing strange
Stiff bodies, in one hearse.
   No one knows if it shall end
   The loss of foe, alike with friend
Means sunlight for the living.
   “What shall happen to them all?”
   Still we watch the shadows fall
A gift that keeps on giving.

My outer layers are ephemeral,
Shifting from day to day
At one time, all I want is some rest
The next, to go out and play.

There’s an Annie that loves to be seen by others
Full of charm, glamour and style
This person is rare, and once coming out
Likes to stay in and hide for a while.

The scientist in me loves reason and rhyme
It gives her a means to an end.
She’s the most relaxing to stay in for a time
But fails to amuse her friends.

Emotionasia loves deep conversations
The kinds hipsters will have in college
She’s impatient, tempestuous, selfish at times
And has deep empathetic knowledge.

When I chance to change, which happens quite often
I don’t understand why I’m here.
It’s scary to see the world different each day
Both wonderful, and filled with fear.

I’m not just a disordered amalgam of traits.
I have purpose, a worldview, a home.
But when each of these traits in my change every day,
It’s hard to think much is my own.