My mother told me the other day
                             she had ****!!
And that she couldn't walk straight.

"I'm a cow girl,

She giggled as she told me this!!
I'm an adult, but hearing it off
your mother is quite a little bit of
                                                    cringe.

"Ok a lot of cringe worthy glances"

She laughed as she walked off asking
if we had a soft pillow..

        *"I was never using that pillow again..

Some can not shed a
             thought
                    reflecting
in the pools of there
            subconscious

What seemed
                   fluidic
                        malleable
neither applied to this
it was a skin of
                      rigid refection.

If one does not open the regressive
estuaries of the
                             cognitive
reality they wonder in,
needing to shed the epidermis
of retired outdated reflections.

Like a tainted mirror they will
slowly fade from the fluid of
mankind's endless potential.

Love is a suicide note
                        to the heart,
Paper cutting your emotions
                      till blood writes on it
           "I'm sorry but thoughts are cheap"

Love is a suicide note
                        to the mind
whispering sweet lullabies to sanity
                       till unthoughtful truths word
            "I'm sorry its not you, it's me,

Love is a suicide note,
and my love
          just hung itself on a tree of
reflection, static and lifeless..

A heart  plays charades
        with a
                   m
                  i
              n
          d
Guessing the possible out comes
of that moment where glances
collapse on floor of another's.

Sm
      ile broken in two,
not fully gathering the
                              words
that were played between
          A heart and mind.  

A breath is inhaled slowly so
not to look like a puffer fish.
And then words, syllables entwined
breath out slowly...

"Hi how are you,

Then a smile by both ensue,
the charades of the
                            heart
                      &
            mind
get it right on this occasion
and both are pleasantly relieved.

My musing is a scratchboard of
             inner turmoil and sometimes

                It cuts a little to deep,
       and my nose bleeds..

                              And in that moment
                                         this was written.

When the vicious breath of light
           devours the twilight
its screams into the eroding
                       collapse of its beauty.

The luminosity never shows you,
            never sinks you into it breath..
we only gaze at its refection's.

But when the candle fades and the
             wax becomes grim,
      then the pillow once again suffocates.

Within the place of onyx moments,
             beauty envelopes everything.
And above what was veiled shimmers
       beyond our comprehension and we gaze...

"Have you ever heard of a monster
                   that wasn't scary!!

Well our story or rather a memory of
a time way back when.
I was such a worrisome little girl.

"Daddy if the world stops will I fall off,
        
                             "Daddy if I pick my nose
                                        will my nostrils
                                     look like an elephants nose?

               "Daddy are monsters real,
                          "I heard one sneeze under my bed??

"My Daddy always looked at me with a smile,

You worry too much for one so young...
Let me tell you things of the world around.
If the world stopped, we'd be like balloons swimming
in the air flapping our arms,
                while the birds giggle at us for looking like clowns.

Our noses, fingers like to fill holes,
                        that's why thumbs fill that gap in your mouth,
wrinkly thumbs, with happy eyes.
So where else would wondering fingers go??
        But if you find sticky treasure, wipe it on a tissue
because even though appetizing, it'll taste totally gross...

There are monsters but not the ones you think,
           under your bed there is one who was
under daddies when he was younger.
Its name is Pickle.

                 "Pickle, daddy is he a boy or girl?

"I don't know my petal, I never asked,
                         "I think he is a little boy monster"

He is always there, you see when you sleep
there are bubbles floating around your room,
there invisible to me and you.
But pickle sees them, especially the worry bubbles,
for he doesn't want them popping on you.

So he collects them o' so gently so that you
have no worries hanging around you.
Then he uses his paws to shrink it to the
size of a ball and

"POP,
                  "daddy you made me jump,

"Well that's what they go, but only quietly,
      
As he eats with his mouth closed,
             even monsters have manners you know.
So if you ever go to bed worrying my baby,
don't ever think you need to keep it in,
speak to mummy or daddy.
But if you still are worried Pickle will be
there for you to watch those bubbles and
he'll always take them away..
And what noises do they make when he
chews them with mouth closed?
                                      
           "Pop,
                        "Pop,
                             ­        "Pop,

Now close your eyes my petal and don't
worry monsters are real,
but there only there to look after you and me.