How could a father treat strangers better than his own daughter?
Aren’t fathers supposed to love their children?
Who was there when I scraped my knee? not you
Who taught me that a man could be so cruel? You
When venomous lips critiqued me
When I would lie in bed so tired of your alcohol
When I wished I had the dad that other girls had
Are you even a father? A man? Or just completely lost to me?

The agony was too much
and the memories suffocated
her until she could not breathe.

For two months she found herself
in a hospital, for she thought
seeking Death would be

a better choice. Jagged red
lines smiled at her
cunningly from her own wrists.

The doctors, nurses and her family
kept her far away from
her best friend, a sharp

point dripping in crimson.
She wondered where it was;
if she was going to see

it again. For days, she
slept and wished
she could sleep forever.

But one day she was told
by the doctor
there was nothing more to be

done to keep her from
thinking the bad thoughts,
except to prescribe drugs

to make her either numb
or fine for a while.
So she went back home,

back to the empty spaces,
back to those horrible memories-
that time of the year

she could not forget, no matter how
she tried to push them to
the back of her mind. Then

she found the farewell letter
she had written two months ago,
meaning to say goodbye

and never, ever come back.
She read it and the agony
came back once again.

It was too much and
the memories suffocated her,
until she could not breathe.

rainless morning, awoken by comforting delicate taps on my window
velvet curtains lifted and fragile opalescent feathers revealed
the hummingbird sings songs for you
and my heart flutters in time with the tune

I’m a planet.

I, like them, feel surrounded.

Surrounded and Isolated.

How is that even possible?

I used to think being alone was hard.

Now I realize that I feel alone in a room full of people,

and that’s even harder.

I worry my planet is missing something.

Missing the will to keep moving.

But I know that I must, for I am a planet that will not burn out.

(-DF-03/04/16-)

By what means must you be drunk
To find yourself face first with a pink trunk

In the midst of the night
When things arent quite right

The moon seems to get a little nearer
And your eyes no longer see much clearer

Your stomach does trapeze tricks
While your feet wobble on tall sticks

It can be quite a fright
When u see that strange sight

Of things that shouldnt, that suddenly are
And surely pink pachyderms qualify as bazar

Especially when one is holding the moon
Dragging it along like some silver balloon

Barely thinking this devil's drink has me out done
But it didnt seem right this shifty elephant on the run

Finally leaving with a huff and shocked i must admit
Seeing that the elephant didnt even have a 'moon transfer' permit

Darling, your love is so steep.

Every day,
I cross your little paths of freckles,
Navigate across your supple curves,
Traverse your succulent lips,
Climb your fiery curls:
Your labyrinthine locks,
the spiraled stairways to your soul.
Alas, every day I lose my way,
And I tumble back to where I began,
Only to prepare for tomorrow's ascent.

I, Sisyphus, yearn to reach your peak.
But dearest, forgive me, your love is so steep.

EVERYTHING IS NORMAL, NOTHING IS RIGHT,
ARE SOME THINGS BEST KEPT OUT OF SIGHT?
I DON'T WANT TO KNOW YOU - I THINK IT'S
BELOW YOU, I CAN'T STOP WHAT YOU WANT TO DO;
ONLY GOD WILL DECIDE ON THE THINGS WHICH
YOU MIGHT LIKE TO HIDE - IF YOU BELIEVE?
IF NOT - YOU ARE BEYOND REBUKE, CAN
NOT BE TOUCHED AND ANSWERABLE ONLY TO
YOURSELF; HOWEVER, FATE CAN TAKE A HAND,
SCATTER GRAINS OF SAND TO FAR FLUNG
CORNERS AND HEM YOU IN LIKE ANIMALS
WAITING TO DIE - NO ESCAPE, NO MATTER HOW
HARD YOU TRY; REMEMBER, WE CARE FOR YOU -
AND WHAT YOU DARE TO DO BUT JUST WHO ARE YOU?

Inward you know it's messed up.

Alone, you do things.
More often becomes most often.

Seeking the truth, you'll realize.
An ounce of tear won't suffice.
Dealing with it, you wish you know how.

Jesus is my God
Jesus is my spouse
Jesus is my life
Jesus is my only Love
Jesus is my all in all
Jesus is my everything.

Author: Mother Teresa.