my grandmother unscrewed
the door to my room
and removed the carpet from my floor

in the winter months
my toes went white and my fingertips hued blue
my lips marred red as i looked to the ceiling
and pondered my importance in this reality

i went to sleep that night and had a dream
i thought was so clever
in this dream i said: 'Roses are sometimes red, and violets
are rarely blue'.
Somebody hand me a Pulitzer this instant

in hindsight, my dreams were foretelling
as i awoke in the hospital with a headache
and diagnosis of hypothermia
the nurses and social workers sat in chairs
with my grandmother beside them  

i closed my eyes and visualized all the
yellow roses and white violets often overlooked
and with a few smiles
and words of affirmations to the guests judging my performance
I received a standing ovation
of vibrant violets and beautiful deep reds thrown on stage
and returned to the Tiled Floors.

Sometimes there isn't a reason why.
Sometimes you just have to sit in the pain.
Let it wash over you like rain.

Sometimes the villain wins.
With no justice in sight.

It's hard to watch a person that hurt you.
Get everything you want.

Sometimes people are people.
With their own flaws and faults.

Some are bad.
Some are good.
Sone stand in between.

You never know which one you'll meet.
Till they show the running colours underneath.
That you wish you would have never seen.

Some goodbyes are sweet.
Wishing you well.
Others are bitter.

Leaving scars in your memory.
Sometimes just sometimes.
People are people.
They can't help who they are.

Sometimes you can try to change.
To rearrange them.

Sometimes you just can't.

That savoury love,
That familiar comfort, a home cooked meal.
The reliable morning texts and midday calls
My warm, rounded, sleepy belly.
That sweet love,
That longed for joyful treat, my childlike excitement
The tender kiss on my forehead
My wonderment, my gentle hope for more
That sour love,
That acrid seizure, my face contorted in shock The lingering invisible betrayal
My confused tastebuds, their longing for dissipation
That bitter love,
Those biting words, our requited animosity
The weaponising of our failings
My aggrieved mouth and her repugnant venom.
That hot love,
The picnic of your mouth by the ocean
The heated liminality before each kiss
Our frenetic and impermanent fire.

I'm on the other side
I promise I don't mind
That we don't see each other anymore
That we have others to pray for.

Somewhat nice
Bitter but in disguise
It'll all fade
To new promises, to be made.

Hope you keep them
Hope you feel them
See them through
This time around, with someone new.

Sometimes bitter, still fresh and bright
These are the traits of newly minted life
This is life in Christ Jesus our Lord
This is precious myrrh outpoured
The fragrance of our earthly lives
The incense of our prayers as they rise
Chew the fresh mint's leaves of green
And experience just what I truly mean
We were not promised an easy road
Full of sun and nary a cloud to be found
There may be persecution or disbelief
And days and nights of such great grief
There will be hard times and bitterness
But life is so, so much more than this
It is full of promise and full of hope
Full of awe and wonder and beauty
It is joy in sorrow and peace to help cope
I feel its protection is our sacred duty
Each one a note of clearest purest tone
Some cut short before they were grown
Unable to add their song to the symphony
Voices echoing out into God's own infinity
Truly, life can be bitter, but it can be sweet
If we can humble ourselves
If we can wash each other's feet

Tinted glasses
In a lightless room
She reaches and grabs where she can
But it’s always a shallow effort
Transactional love

But that’s not the love I want to receive
I want to know you trust me
I want to feel you support me
Not take and take and take

I learn to cut the strings for people who are great at wasting my time.
But I mourn each thread of the girl I used to be.
The little girl who hugged lonely looking people in the grocery store.

the blood of my mother is sweet.
but the blood of my father is sour.

no wonder i am certain of nothing.
even my blood does not know
how it should taste.