A smile curving at the End of your lips,
Satin hands
Melting all I wish to say, into action
Quick to escape my mouth,
Are the inner pleas, to your attentive ear
Plush bodies forming intangible communion
Seeking through deep stares and nervous laughter
When we finally meet,
My soul Shakes.

When I was a child, and the sun rose up,
I anticipated it's arrival
It represented opportunity to take in new life
A chance to forget, thinking,
maybe the burdens I bared, could surely fall away
Rays of renewal, sloughing off the shame of secrets
by warming my back and face
I could be the person I was supposed to be, school yard, macaroni art, ***** elbows and knees
playground sweat still dripping, after the teacher called us to come inside.
When I was a child, and the sun rose up
There was still dirt on my elbows and knees
When the sun rose up,
There was no solace in the warmth on my face
It was bright, stinging, in my eyes, blinding
When the sun rose up,
You were still there
This wasn't going to be a new day,
The sun wasn't going to take away the sins you left me with
Sunlight was still Night,
Only, you were no longer using the shadow of evening to hide
You were standing tall, walking proud, All Knowing
that you could hide in plain sight
For who would question your Love for a child?
Day time nightmares, my eyes still open, reality, My heart sinking deep
Your guilt, your chance of getting caught, took your life..
& Now when the sun rises up,
I am free

Mop head, double helix.
Daybreak Tendrils of Derision,
Fighting the Teeth that separate your Masses.
Bending, Snagging, tugging,
Polypeptide disasters.
Jaunty coil formations
Haunting and *****.
Defiantly springing against Gravity,
Never staying in a Place, you wish not to be.
Envy comes over me, when I see those who can use a Brush.

This isn't about what was wrong, turned around,
Or what views of the world are upside down.
The divine truth, produced, From labored days,
taught me that I am a God unto myself, If I choose to be.
Churning up the Soil I was buried in,
once lain..
Pondering Which crop to nourish first.
My Sanity or my heart ?
It takes two to Tango,
A myriad of Facades,
To wade through.
To receive the fruits of labor, I must first bury the seeds.
Seeds of thought, what the soul can recycle, upcycle, and what Pains I can tackle..
Because without fresh air, and new beginnings, I can't breathe.

Words of wax plastered to the center of my chest
Ripping it off like a bandaid
won't relieve the pain sticking to my skin, no.
No Alleviation for the unkind words
Seeping doubt further into my fragile spirit
Your need to feel superior
Are Fists crushing pedals
To draw out the Fine essence of who is made from them
Stealing sweet floral scent that never belonged to the consumer.
You're a moth in the Butterfly Garden,
Trying to reflect light with grey scale wings.
Deceptive practices, to make believe
That I bend at your will,
And will leave your mark as a branding to flaunt.
I will not Break.

We build walls of insecurities out of sand.
Mixed with the grains of every desire wanted.
This child shoveling sand with plastic heart beats, & hollow rhythms, attempts to utter a Simple hello.
Hello, to the true Human condition.
This hello is not what I want.
But the dream, a pixelated picture, not yet complete, floats along bending rivers of doubt, & opportunity. Longing to become whole..
To become whole with the freedom, I deserve.
Yet my anxieties beckon me.
My elders of the court, surrounding, judgement passing, of what true pain means.
Are we all not children?
Discovering that our roots were slowly embedded with and from the Scorned children, before us.
By our oppressions and automated systems, that have created the demons in our closets, & The monsters underneath our beds.
Awaiting for the Court, to hand us our fates..
These Elders, watch my aspirated expression, turning me blue with Rage.
"Don't speak out.
For the Foundation of this Very Court, was built on the Silence of Hushed lambs."
The surrender to appointed Society, has tainted the Fine woven threads of our wool, giving no Remorse for the Unfed child's belly.
An insatiable hunger to scream, "We have a voice!!"
We are a stairway of Bodies, rising our Oppressors, higher than our own souls.
Though we should fly freely among those un-chained,
We are a whisper, fighting against the forceful winds, who claimed Democracy.
If we are equals, why must we not Speak?
Why In a Valley littered with deaf ears, and blind hearts, can we only hear our elders sing...
With liberty, and Justice for all.