yes
i did just call my cat
a *****-*** ***
because he was climbing up my bookshelf
trying to steal my **** again
don't judge me

the droplets of water are singing a trail down the bricks of the houses
through the alleys of the glassy-eyed broken people with soft hearts, a pre-disposition for death
weaving a tabooed trail across the sidewalks that when gazed upon reeks of obscurity
and leaving faint lines on the creased skin of all the sinewy fatalities
the mildewed rain peaks across the rusted windowsill that sighs with familiarity
it sloshes against the children’s playground and slaps at the pavement with a sudden clarity
it empties itself into the spiked maze of the tree branch hoping the leafs will cling onto to it dearly
it mellows into a pond that breaks apart with sharp staccatos when mushy feet run down the street
and it hurls itself into the bitterly sweet lips of two frost-bitten lovers who will soon meet
it daintily steps into the burning embers of the flame, only to be flushed out in shame
it turns to the shower as a last resort, but whines in dismay when it’s slurped down the drain
it embraces the eyelashes until it’s shaken in misery and then watches wearily as it’s blinked away in positivity
it lumbers down the path of the bruised ego, a shattering of phrases that leaves the person’s mouth
and before it has the chance to drop it is scooped up and chastised until it moves no more
the tears and the rain drops wander listlessly for all of eternity
only to be hastily thrown away or brushed into cotton for fear of a restless divinity
it is never to reach a destination and only doomed to be forgotten
and so it seems dear friends, that raindrops are simply you and me

baby,
your hip bones aren't supposed to be sticking out
your ribs aren't supposed to either
they pump you full of pictures
of skeleton girls in cute bikinis
and weight loss tips
and though you always think "don't let it get to you, they're wrong"
it gets in your head.
because all the boys commenting on the photos say they'd totally ride her
long and hard
and all the comments on the girl who's slightly overweight
involves comparisons to cows
and you're so soaked in social media
that you can't help but see it
and all the girls commenting on how that's all they
want

but if all you want from life is to be "slightly sick"
to eat things and then puke them up
or not eat at all
you will never be satisfied
because you are feeding a hunger that does not go away
you lose the ability to judge how skinny
is too skinny
how pretty
is too pretty
after all, they are
the same
thing...

baby,
stop looking at those pictures.
stop reading those comments.
stop letting a pornographic generation of boys
tell you that ****** appeal is all you're worth.
start saying to yourself
i am not on the same level as a pornstar
because that is unrealistic
because **** is make believe
with plastic barbie dolls
to set the scene....
baby,
pretty isn't skinny
like pretty isn't fat
WE KNOW WHAT PRETTY REALLY IS

....we just ignore that fact.

little flame-headed child
i should have held you more.
i should have scooped you up in your little patchwork-dress
and read to you when you asked.
i shouldn't have left you alone
outside
on purpose
i shouldn't have let you cry
over
and over
and over.
i shouldn't have made fun of you
for making friends with the air
for talking to them
when you were lonely
you were only
a child.
little flame-headed baby
i should have done so many things
as many things as i shouldn't have
i did wrong by you
so many times
and when i was given a second chance
our mother robbed me of it.
that's karma, i guess.

little flame-headed child
you forgive me,
but your patchwork heart doesn't
it's alright,
i deserve it

you wait in the car with your dad
outside a pretty house
hear children in the back yard
inside is like a polished tomb.

you are inside suddenly,
creeping in
see a figure
by a big triangle window
that goes all the way down to the floor
arms crossed,
shoulders hunched
it is
mother.

you don't talk to her.
you have to do this
she doesn't matter anymore
she's done the same thing
once before
it is only fair
what goes around
comes
around
but something keeps you there
on that shiny floor
glued
staring
at the pathetic shadow

they
refuse
to
go.
we say
"please come,
we haven't seen you in so long
it will only be
for a little while
we will bring you back
we promise
we just want to see
you grow up
just a
little
please."

the oldest girl
crosses her arms
like her mother
but her shoulders
are spread strong
her angles defiant
she says
"we will never go with you
we don't even
like you
you
are a liar
don't
touch
us."

we leave
strained hands on steering wheel
we grieve
like we have for two years
we know well how to do it
the woman in the pretty, empty house
gets the four little smiles
to keep her company
we get
the lake we make
with our enduring disappointment
to drown in.

thank you,
mom.

'Tryna get to sunny Californy' -
Boom. It's the awful raincoat
making me look like a selfdefeated self-murdering imaginary gangster, an idiot in a rueful coat, how can they understand my damp packs - my mud packs -
„Look John, a hitchhiker'
„He looks like he's got a gun underneath that I. R. A. coat'
'Look Fred, that man by the road' „Some sexfiend got in print in 1938 in *** Magazine' –
„You found his blue corpse in a greenshade edition, with axe blots'

The forest, as if in suspended animation
Exploded in a cacophony of sound

It was nothing more than a twig
Snapping beneath the weight of a padded paw

Yet, the silence was shattered by this atypical step
By this stealthy dark shadow slowly moving through the forest

His heart raced!
His usual calm...replaced by an awkward anticipation

Earlier, a howl he had heard off in the distance
So familiar, yet as if from another lifetime, beckoned

Ahead, with the dusky sky as it's canvas
A giant white pine stands as a sentinel, protecting...

...a lone silent figure...

Carefully, quietly, he approached
"I can hear you" said the now, not so silent figure
"In fact, the whole forest can!" she giggled

His golden eyes, now, intently stared directly into hers
"I heard your howl", he said attentively
"I knew U would come", she assuredly replied, "U are always there for me."

As he drew closer, she asked..."Am I dreaming?"
"Does it matter?", he inquired

Her breath quickened, slowly fracturing
As did her fragile spine as her body contorted

Into a shifting form, that would mimic his
Strong and sinewy

Rejuvenated, she moved with assurance
Once again, feeling familiarity in this form

In her sheen coat of white fur, she now stood
Next to him, and his coat of fur that matched the raven's wing

They stood in contrasting, yet symbiotic fashion
He pulled her closer, and without making a sound
Gestured that it was time for them to go...


(c) 2013 Shawn White Eagle