Anticipation
Gets the best of me
Love has the sweetest of scents
Even a whiff boils my blood
In hope of a full meal
Just crumbs
And leftovers
That is all I encounter
You, woman
Taught me how to love
Never how to forget
And I'm hungry

Hidden
Secrets, Memories, Marvels
Beneath you
Beneath me
I only see so deep
Through you
You see but the empty
Surface of me

Esperanza means Hope, not despair.
Love, not Death.
So why is my best friend gone forever?

The questions gush unanswered as my pillow soaks up tears.
I just want her back. I just want her to be here.  I just want her back.
I sleep hoping never to wake up.

As in a dream, wandering about, I'm lost in a haze unsure of my place or where I am going.  Thinking, always of her. Where did she go?  I open my eyes in darkness, only to see more of the same.

No sunshine wakes me today, only clouds,
Lingering thoughts of the alcohol, the accident, her smile.
I have lost my Hope, and the rain falls with me this morning.

*
Pain stings deeper than ever now as eyes turn misty, like clouds have drifted in front of them.
You can hardly see but through the fog of grief, or raining tears.

Thunderstorms are frequent, banging in your chest.  
Brief the flashes of lightning, a blaze of clarity hits:

Her memory is the seed you thought you planted in the ground. You visited her grave that morning, but she wasn't where you left her.  She is buried in your mind and in your heart.

You need to water now and when your eyes dry up, as they will, and return to sparkling beautifully, don't feel bad.  Feel how deep your roots are planted, they will only give you strength.

Clouds have passed, burned off by a brilliant afternoon Sun.  
She is not gone, but with you more than ever.

She is the warmth you feel on your brown shoulder on a beautiful day in Spring.
Her smile is the shining Sun of the Universe, ringing laughter from an eternal soul.

So don't feel like you have to let Espy go,
Only realize that it's time to let your little plant grow.

I have created a monster.



A monster of defeat.



One that tends to think.



But never speak.







I have created a monster.



A monster of emotion.



One that loves always.



And shows all her devotion.







I have created a monster.



A monster of spite.



One who does wrong.



But always thought right.







I have created a monster.



A monster of itself.



One who knows everyone.



But my own self.

I am five years old
And my mother is dead
Or she might be, I’m not too sure
I am sure I’m in the closet
The one near my parents’ room
Filled with my father’s jackets and spare towels
Bubbling mold, silver dollars falling from my father’s pockets
Rain on one of my mother’s china dolls
Coat of dust, ash, an undertow
Her hands are like white powder
Looking glass, tornadoes of simple blue
Cat’s eyes I’ve won from my dead mother
She was a girl once
With flowers on her dress
Now she haunts this closet
And the things I’ve lost with no regard
They litter this empty room
I’m holding her next to me in the dark
Together in the belly of the whale
She tugs on one of the woolen sleeves
Of my father’s jacket
With her lacey white hands
She wipes the blood from my face
And the breath of escape my mother gave
As I held her for the last time

We said not to wear
them inside, but now what I'd
give to hear their sound