As soon as the mask for her eyes is gathered up,
She huddles under the thick blankets,
Gathering all the warmth she can.

She loves this weather,
The weather for hot tea drinking,
For immerse book reading.

The weather for hiding in her comfy bed,
The weather is an excuse to disappear from the world,
The weather is where she can be herself.

That sight of the scars
Painting her young wrists
Shook me with with disbelief
Yet overtook me with jealousy

I'd never be able to express pain
Like she did in her poetry

The crispest of papers
The finest of inks would falter
In front of that beautiful, mangled mess
Her smudged, blood-tinged words would author

Is


                                                              ­              it



             too



                                                             ­                                    late




                                               for




                                                         ­                    me




                                                          ­                                                        to




                                      take                  ­                    



                                         ­                                           you



                                                             ­                                                            back?





I can cover up your bleeding wounds
I can absorb its germy fluids
and I can help prevent it from scarring
I can be your band aid

You can put me on
You can use me
and you can throw me out when you're done
I can be your band aid

There was one moment
That I found to be
Especially surreal
You had just lost your wi-fi (again)
And our call had just reconnected
The picture clarified for just
A single moment no longer
Than two seconds of
A crystal clear image
You had looked away from the screen
Something had caught your
Attention (the kids attaching engines to their bikes or maybe your dad taking the dog back in)
And I saw just how beautiful you are
For just a second I could see how
Vibrant your hair was
Not quite like a fire so much
As the softest of velvet curtains
Even though I think you could
Set fire to the largest of forests with
The greatest of ease
I could see how blue your eyes were
Like the sky but not early in the morning
Rather the dark it turns before
All the light is drained from it
And for the briefest time I saw into your soul
I could see how much you long
To leave like a bird locked in a cage
I could see how finely crafted you are
Like a painters finest work of art
Every cell a skillful brush stroke
In that moment I knew I wanted to kiss you
But I was so acutely aware of the fact that
We were separated by so much time (why do we measure distance in time anyway)
And that I won't have that chance for
What could be as long as months
This all happened in only a few seconds
And when you looked back at me
You smiled and laugh (the sweetest sound I've ever heard)
And in that moment something clicked inside me
I knew I would have to hold you in my arms
And I would have to put my hands on your hips or your face (I haven't decided yet)
Pull you close to me and kiss you
I'll do anything to make that happen
Mark my words little bird someday I will set you free
*~W.C.

You have to be careful of what you touch
Everything you ever lay your hands on
Will forever remember the way you held it
Until it fades away into the dust that it came from
The pen will remember how you held it between your fingers
How much pressure you put on it when you wrote her a love letter
Her doorbell will always remember the way your hand shook
The day you took her out for the first time
The passenger side door handle will remember
How your hand was slick with sweat when you tried to open it for her
The fork and knife you used to cut your steak that night
Will remember how you fumbled with them because you were so nervous
The steering wheel will remember how tightly you held it
As you drove her back to her house after dinner
They will always remember every detail of your touch
So think twice before you reach out to her and take her hand
Because when you touch her your fingerprints aren’t only left on the surface
They will sink below the surface of her skin and seep into her blood stream
They will course through her entire body
And just like the pen she will never forget the way you touched her
*~W.C.

Do you ever get stuck on someones physical appearance
To the point where you can't get past one of their features
Its just so eye catching and no matter what you can't help but focus
On this one aspect of them that shouldn't really matter so much
When you talk to them you find yourself fixated
Eyes drawn to whatever it is that calls for your attention
You see I only ask because I am having this very problem
I adore her to no end but I simply can't get past her eyes
They're just so beautiful
*~W.C.

Antarctica is just a hotel room that we passed sometime late last week
This highway only has a handful of exits but we don’t know where we’re going
And for some reason we’ve been measuring everything in heartbeats
It tears me apart because I would rather measure you in kisses
Confined to the hospital bed in the backseat I’ve never known such helplessness
Your smile lights the way but there is nothing to see except these blank white walls
I know what I want and thats a small victory in and of itself
But warm beds have always eluded me and the wings meant to bring you to me keep disappearing
They keep me tied down and I wonder if its because they think I’ll hurt myself again
I didn’t know any better and they never bothered to teach me
My father never warned me about the ocean
He never spoke to me of the currents
So how was I to know the real danger was hidden under the surface
My mother never warned me about the forest
She never spoke to me of the depths
So how was I to know the real danger was in my lack of direction
Now I just stare into coffee cups because they remind me of my mistakes I think it must be the smell
I had hoped they were just being careless but maybe it was me after all
*~W.C.

These days run away
like criminals who
flee.
Taking with them
all of what I never
did.

This regret remains
fresh just as honey
never ages.
And there's that blood
red stain where my need
for the hurt leaked
onto the floor.

Somewhere beneath
those times and
these years lays
a reason that's fighting
to be understood.

These losses are as
sad as Pluto
losing its status.
And yet I still
believe there's
a masterpiece
somewhere within
all of us
waiting to be
freed.