I'm talking to the air

about my regrets and mistakes.

I'm talking about how I

tried

to do something and all it did

was make me feel more

lonely.

Because I has made mistakes.

Because I was a fool.

Because I was too weird or strange

or something that repelled people.

I'm talking to the air

about that time I talked to my

school counselor

and how I instantly regretted it.

Because she didn't have my wishes

in mind.

She had the law in it

so she did things

I didn't want her to.

I'm talking to the air

about the mistakes I still hate

about the girl three years ago

that got me birthday presents

and I never got her any

because I was afraid to show my

affection.

And now she's gone

leaving me thinking about what

an idiot

I was.

I'm talking to the air

about this:

poems will not change one thing,

that this is slowly breaking

my mind

because I keep thinking

that this is slowly breaking

my social life.

But for some reason I don't want

to stop.

I keep talking to the air

because it listens.

Happiness is a guilty pleasure.

It's just not me; not who I am.

And I love it.

It feels so amazing, so wonderful

to be happy

to talk to strangers

to laugh

to love

in life.



But sadness blinds me eyes.

Stands out in the crows

and I love it.

It feels so thoughtful, so honest

to be conscious

to have will

to learn

to listen

in life.

Her vocals strum

and hum

a tone of great familiarity

The crisp and warm and sharp

voice of her mouth as she reads

Poetry



Cadence of flies

that rise

and fall and flutter through void

like waves that pound on my ear

and stings the air when she reads

Poetry



But would the air

compare

with that if she played my words?

and match the golden light of the

hanging lamp above us both?



Us both immersed

in words

of others and pain of others

while we look across at each other

and listen as my

sister

reads

Poetry

All year Life sat on the curb

With infant Love in hands

But a hurricane came roaring by

And washed his child away



After the storm Despair came by

And sat down next to Life

Then Anger and Anxiety followed

Which caused him quite some strife



And old companion was there also

Named Insecurity

He appeared at the unlucky times

In a mirror Life did see



Regret and Shame came behind

And made Life bitter cold

Believed he didn't deserve beauty

Condemned to live alone



Later on Loved walked by

Older but still a child

Life and his heavy group got up

And ran after her like wild



But Love was not grown up and she

Was not ready for the world

So she and Life were torn apart

While in dark the latter was hurled



Life cried out and begged for Death

To appear to come and take him

He pulled a string around his throat

And awaited asphyxiation



But Death sent Fear to her brother

And Fear went to take Life's hand

The ligature was ripped right off

And the air returned like sand



Despair made no haste to leave

But did so in the end

She left her children for her place:

Heartache and Isolation



Love walked by the curb again

Young, but more mature

But life was much more hesitant

To chase such bright pasture



Fear who had stayed so long

And spared Life fear of Death

With Anxiety he hit Life so hard

And gave his mind no rest



From Love came imperfect Beauty

And from her came Modesty

"Such a wonderful thing," sighed Life

"Is better off without me."

Stress is building up like snow

I'll write something better

tomorrow



I need to stop procrastinating.

And then she placed her rainbow broom

With colors across the spectrum

Leaned it against the kitchen chair

As her face grew very solemn



"Wash away the grime!" she says

Grasping the dripping mop

Soft and hard, wet and dry

She coats every exposed spot



Her face while working, 'tis so solemn

Watching the colored bristles drown

In soft and hard, wet and dry

And slowly but surely go brown



Soft and hard, wet and dry

Yet the children do not cry



They know how to laugh and play

Even when the sun's away

We have a lasagna that's been sitting in there since 6 o' clock

And for three hours since you've been doing homework

I know we just has it two days ago

But our fridge just broke and our freezer, too

And buying a new one is so much money

That your father is working from dawn to dusk for

At a workplace that is about to be boarded up

While your brother over here is being an utter ******

And our houses is falling apart

We have no working dishwasher

My shop isn't selling

Your grandmother's dying across the Atlantic

The other is flipping through jobs

And our sinks don't work

And our tub is leaking

The car's making weird sounds

And our garage is collapsing

The oven's malfunctioning

And our driveway's cracking

And 4 years from now I'll be paying to the colleges

That will steal two parts of my soul.

So please, dear daughter, let us go eat some lasagna.