Mama moved into a new house
I moved down the staircases
Like some kind of demon on ice
Our quality of living has shot up a couple levels.

I have a walk in closet
My father doesn't know how to be a father
Anymore it seems
And I find myself looking into the faces of men
Longing and wanting that male presence.

I've given up on it
Or maybe just found refuge in what is right now
Though a simplification I can smell
And know is on it's way
Perhaps.

I don't drink much
But my body feels the hit of it
The next day
Slowing me down, my motivation has been
Less colorful.

I'm willing to own up where I must learn
Listening, I practice so much patience
Reaching into a platform where I didn't know I could be
But I don't get the quite same high feeling
Or I wonder what will be next
What else do I need?

I collapsed onto the floor not that long ago
And have let myself feel like an emotional diamond
Writing feels less expansive
But naturally floods through me
Like a mirror of light.

Dreams and plans
So many ideas brew and appear
Arising from the glass
Reaching right into it
I remember and think on the places I've been
And wonder
What's next
But stop myself
To be here now.