she was never
the type of person
to gift me things.
Christmases
and birthdays
were just a sad reminder
of that.
i always have hope
that this year
will be the year.
so when the day came
that she spontaneously
gave me a bottle
of dollar store
vanilla brown sugar perfume,
i nearly cried.
this little gift
that meant nothing to her
meant everything to me.
it meant she knew
that vanilla was my
favorite scent.
it meant she knew
that the perfume
my aunt had given me
for christmas had run out.
it meant that
deep down
she cares about me.
whenever i smell
the scent of vanilla
i will close my eyes
and think
of that perfume,
mom.

you serenaded a soul with words my ears have never comprehended,
overused the concept of love, wringing the word out until it was left dry, there was a hope in me that the author in you would display himself for me as well, that your stanzas correlated to the feeling between us.
i was searching for the words in your mouth, my hands sinking in like a dentist on a mission, hoping to pry out the sudden surprise of a few letters from between your teeth, something to make me feel like there were still things to discovered, that you were not going to be like the others, but everything fit wrong, like when i had not worn my retainer in a week.

woman.
house of fire and hope
and light.
woman.
canvas where loveliness and
fierceness blend.
woman.
ocean of flowers and life.
garden where all things wonderful grow.
woman.
you.

A simple excuse is what most need and they think
that justice is a synonym for revenge. They claim
that all they do is natural and not an act of distress.
So how can i quite this part of me that at any tipping
point someone will linch and act uncontrollably
achieving only to hurt those he or she loves.
I fear that most can not bear to lose any more and they
would give into a comfort zone, into zestless and
voiceless acts only leading to their ruin.
The world is a harsh place and there are those who
would see others suffer for their own gain, even
flay those who would try to help them.
Difficult to be stronger than our excuses but what is
worse from losing ourselves.