"Just kiss her" he said.  
     "You two look lovely tonight" he said.  
     Thinking to myself; My god how drunk does he have to be to not see the sadness my eyes were holding back.  How drunk was he to say again "just kiss her."  Too drunk to notice that love didn't live here anymore.  Drunk enough to think that a kiss was all that I wanted yet, sober enough to notice how lovely you looked tonight.
                      - S. Mia
                  June 29, 2015

Baby I need you, all alone in this big, empty room.  "I know, I'm just busy but, I promise you I'll be there soon."
     Baby come hold me, I'm getting cold and these windows don't lock like they used to.  "How about you come home to me, my clothes are torn and I am worn but, you know how much you mean to me."
     Baby I want you, closer than we've ever been before.  "I know I don't show you but, I've been around and I know I want you more."
     Baby I smell you, in your teeshirt I've wrapped myself up in.  "I sprayed it three times and laid it down upon your skin."  
     Baby I feel you, you're not here but, I remember just where you were.  "I wish I could pull you in closer, I rolled over and fell asleep to the thought of you breathing."
     Baby I taste you, on my tongue, I lick my lips, I miss the way you used to pout.  "I remember the first time I kissed you on your ear and the top of your skelp."
     Baby I see you, in the mirror, next to me, I close my eyes and you're there.  "I opened my eyes to you.  Last night I dreamt of keeping you safe, holding you tight, feeling you close, listening to you speak, watching your eyes close."
     Baby where are you?  "I'm here alone in this big, empty room. I see you in the corner with your hair ******* in a knot, you're hinting at me, "come lay down with me."
     As we lay down, your head on my chest for the night, I heard you mumble a question, asking me "baby, are we alright?"
     Yes baby, we're alright.  Now close your eyes and please, please, sleep tight.
                        -S. Mia
                  June 28th 2015

I always talked about writing a book and getting out there but now I'm really beginning to use my brain and I think that writing A single book would be the stupidest thing I could ever do.  It's because stories and poetry and language, ****, life itself doesn't end after a certain number or pages.  You don't ever stop failing or creating, you're constantly revolving and revolving, we're constantly gaining a want for more, giving us this thirst for a sequel.  And to write two or three books would be just as dumb because some things just don't make sense when they're split up.  Take us humans for example;  We are born into this life with the mission to find the arms belonging to another that we will call home to at the end of each day.  We set out and we fail a million times over again but then we succeed.  We search and search until we are found by finding.  We have two hands, two eyes, two legs and we double that each time we reach out or hands to hold or to be held, each time we look into the eyes of another only to see a reflection of ourselves that's not yet been warped, each time we put one foot in front of the other in complete darkness to show that we'd fall to our death if it meant them making it out into the light.  Our head, heart and hopes long to be on the same wavelength as another.  Which is why books cannot be written with the intent of having an ending or a sequel.  We are matches to those who carry candles and while we burn out, we are lit again, we constantly begin again and again;  We do not just end, we are dropped, we drop and we pick up, we get picked back up again.

S. Mia Febuary 15 2015

Something is hurting me lately.  Something inside me is hurting me, I'm not sure what it may be but maybe it's this heart that's beating for two, or these lungs, I have two but, they have to breath, think, balance and composure.  Some things hurt even when it's late and the moon is hidden behind a cloud.  Some things still hurt when the sun is up.  Put the self pity down;  The ones you love, thank them for loving you.  Nothing's hurting me but the fact that if something was, I wouldn't know what to do
                     I'd leave it all for you
                      
                             - S. Mia
                       October 22 2014

And there are days when I miss him so much, I don't know what to do with my hands because when he's not besides me, I can't slip my fingers into his palm or my palm, under his lap.  Because when he's not behind me, I haven't any reason to turn around and wait but, I do, I stand and listen for you to return "polo" to my cries of "Marco". Because when he isn't in front of me, I haven't any reason to move forward but I move forward and a little to the left and reach until he is in my reach. And there will be days like this, when I'll fall asleep on the couch waiting for his call, waking up in his arms, being carried to the top of the staircase, listening to him lay me down, listening to his "I love you and all."
                      - S. Mia
              November 1 2014

Here I sit, eyes planted on a lady bug trapped on my side of the fence, trapped inside instead of outside.  She, on four legs, myself, on two, she climbs and climbs to the same spot on the window over and over again.  Just under the blinds yet, if she were to be crawling outside, she would have landed atop the bedded stem of plants.  Up and up, again, stopping just shy of the blinds as if the color blue is threatening, terrifying her eyes, absorbing into her heart, her heart that beats blue but when she is beat; Bleeds red.  Flying back down to stage one, ground zero, alone where she is both safe and a danger all at once.  A ground where feet trampled carelessly. A ground she eventually got tired of trying to higher herself from because now she sits, turned around, facing me.  Watching me on my hands and knees, stretching, pulling, screaming; Reaching for something to believe in.  She watches me walk up the street, to the end of the driveway, turn around and fall back down again.  Wondering if I fell hoping to land softly in one mans arms, wondering why it is that I would want to be anywhere but home.  "But, little miss ladybug, you are filled with luck, you can find the strength to get past the blue, you are the color orange because tree is a fire that burns inside of you."  Igniting the glass to melt and warp into some sort of portal; A passage in time in which she made it to the other side of the window, in which I made it to the top of the driveway, through the front door only to realize that all I entered was a house.  Locking me inside, degrading locks causing me to be kept apart from my heart.  "Come on little miss lady, let's show them that we've got nothing left to lose but these mazes in our heads."  Stepping away from the starting line, pulling back on the knot in my stomach, swinging full speed, shattering the glass, decapitating the locks.  Locking us away from "us" Panting, sweating, standing up on two feet, watching in relief as little miss lady flew through the smashes glass to a place where she could just be.  Standing up on two feet, dropping the knot, taking one glance in your direction, whispering under my breath.. "I leave my house to see you but it feels like I'm heading home."
                          - S. Mia
                   October 28 2014