How can I unmake indignant hands,
rolled, into fists?
If I kiss the fingers, will they unfold,
like celestial doors,
and beckon me in?
If I traverse your lifeline,
with softened eyes, and lips,
will we time skip,
Into a time, and place,
that's better, than this?

Even in thunder,
you dwell
at the center, of me.

I wonder,
would you melt...
with my hand, on your cheek.

Sometimes I don't wanna share
The same space with ya
Here we go again
With my chaos
With my cold affection
With my what you call
All the time
"This fake love"
It's classic
Always happens
Right?
Is supposed to happen..
To everyone
Did I ever even feel a connection
Did you?
Constant
Chameleon
To your changing tune
Switch up the trope
Wonder if you even knew me
'cause I been roughing it
And showing you my tummy
When I'm belly up
Come wanna show you underneath
But you would c
Keep it safe for me
Classic uncomfortability
Wanna unsee certain sides of you
I'm expected to accept
Sometimes I don't wanna
Talk it out
Because I forgot how to
And where to start
  I've been told every connection
Has it hardships
Is this separation average
Or am I emitting negativity
Causing our love to die?

A FOREST encircles us,
'Round our merry abode
Just beyond the river
Where falls the Autumn leaves

Spirits sow and fret
About in the treeline yonder
They laugh and dance;
And snicker at our petty little abode

Every evening of this Autumn
Has been their grandest theatre
The woman with running mascara
And eyes damasked in red

The husband raises his voice,
Like the church's choir bells
He knows not what he wroughts
And only the Forest may ever know

The morning sun reflects
Across the leaves of the red-tipped photinia,
Flowing forth to accent the brilliant
White of the oak leaf hydrangea.

Peacefulness rests solidly on the scene.
There is time for talk and a chance to listen.

Life is calm, except for the roughness at the edges.
Disagreements suddenly become prominent.

How does one disagree?
When do topics become as rough as sandpaper?
How hard does one scrape the soft edges of ideas?
If rubbed too deeply, do emotions sour, curdling like overnight cream left unrefrigerated?

Can we play with these ideas like juggling bottles in the air?
If they are dropped, are they erroneous, becoming shards swept to the garbage?

Righteousness and reason override relationships. We must think alike if we are to be maintained.

Midday has arrived; sunshine dominates. Hydrangeas and the red-tipped leaves now glow the shade of seafoam,
Shining as clearly as a meadow.

Have our ideas become more lucid, more detailed, more correct?
Were we willing to discard what was deemed baggage, too wrong to carry beyond today?  

What too has become of us together? Did our arguments massage so intently our intellects that the bruising might not heal?

When you go
go gentle,
do not slam the door
slip quiet from the world without a sound,
no harsh and bitter aloe words
leave them unsaid
that time has passed
you cannot make amends
this is where it ends,
so go with grace
still your quarrelsome tongue and heart
depart

So dies the day
In chilly silence with a promise broken
falling night, drinks the light
and pulls the curtains on our words unspoken

I may be young,
But I'm not stupid,
I'm not unscarred.
Who gave you the authority,
To tell me how I should use art,
For if it wasn't for this outlet,
I don't think I would be here today.
So can't we shake hands,
And understand,
Not everyone walks for the same reasons.

A fact is a non-arguable statement,
But a statement is defined fact,
Through observations and experimentation.

Today a fact was patented,
By the college of my love for you,
The fact is; You are beautiful, that is it.

I choose my battles wisely
I choose my words carefully
I know when to retreat
I know when to be quiet
and my silence says everything
but it’s her lack of understanding
that will not listen yet she continues on
as all sense and logic goes out the window
I watch the lips move frantically
I watch the chin quiver like an earthquake
I watch the inferno eyes flare up wildly
as sour tears roll down sullen cheeks
I remain unresponsive and copacetic
which drives her into total madness
more and more she continues on
as my nerves grind down to sulfur
and my worth gets skinned alive
she has stripped away everything of mine:
happiness, joy, dignity
there’s nothing more for me to do here
but sit and wait in my own mind.
I wait for the energy to deplete
I wait for the useless rancor
and rage to die down
I wait for the flustered face
to release the stress and fear.
better days will come, this I’m sure of
but not right now, right now I’m thinking about picking up my daughter from trick
or treating while she slams doors and hyperventilates over things
I couldn’t quite possibly
comprehend.