Not always good to hear
Not always the thing you wanna share
But please lets face it
Without truth, how will you make it?
So c'mon now
We gotta tell the truth, or show it somehow
Down to the girl or boy you don't like
Just tell them, but without spite
So spread the word about the importance of Truth
And help others realize  and believe me, some will go mute........

[new moon]
Moon girl is breath and curve. She catches light and throws it back to the universe. You see her and tremble, falling, as she once must have done from some heavenly place.

[waxing crescent]
Moon girl is wild. You follow her into the forest where she steps barefoot into a stream and takes your hand, water swirling over her feet and hers. She talks about roots and branches and flight. You are in love.

[first quarter]
Moon girl is dancing. Moving her body, dynamic, unpracticed elegance, shaping space, graceful, unafraid of audience, unafraid of pause, unafraid to bend and swish and rise, flying, electric, boundless. She gets everywhere. In your morning tea, clouds, April storms, wrapped in sparkling strung-out melodies, and especially in your head. You dream of waist, skin, movement holding her and warmth, closeness, desire kissing her and your heart burns soft inside your chest, a lantern lit by lunar beams.

[waxing gibbous]
Moon girl gives you violets. You give her your hands, open; your heart, open; your soul, open. You give her everything, or you try.

[full moon]
Moon girl is with you, always, this silver fire here in the filth and blood and terror, head on your shoulder, palm on your skin, speaking to you in ways language cannot, grounding you, saving you, saying your name, holy, lifting you up, repeated tenderness, voice low, eyes deep, glorious, and she is steel, she is iron, she is endless.

[waning gibbous]
Moon girl smiling. Moon girl watching. Moon girl brave. Moon girl rough and sweet. Moon girl creating. Moon girl radiating. Moon girl moving, toward you.

Moon girl.
Moon girl.
Moon girl.

I do not wish to be
an emerald, pressed firmly against
the flesh of someone else's finger,
to be marveled upon by eyes
that only see beauty disguised beneath layers
of self-inflicted ignorance.
I do not wish for a life
sitting gracefully upon its pedestal,
or a striking face behind a glass display
that has never tasted the sweat
of reality.
I refuse to pass days behind
white picket fences trapping me
from seeking out scarlet horizons
or to live by the shout
of a clock that is running out of words
to tell me that I mean
nothing.
I am not going to sit, confined within
the peeling floral paper
that embraces the same walls that suffocate me
nor will I let my heart sleep
within the cavern walls of a chest
that is starving to set it free.

I want to crawl towards comfort
with scraped knees that do not bleed apologies
and earth trapped underneath my fingernails
like a joke no one ever broke silence to laugh at
I want to harvest gratification
with these same hands that have taught themselves
how to let go of the ones
who have tried to set it on a silver plate
for me to eat.

I desire to be dizzy
on the last day I will ever grace the air
with my breath,
blinded by joy I had spent a lifetime pursuing
with shadows cast beneath these hungry eyes
that have realized--

that it takes a revolution
to be able to say that I did more
than just exist,
I conquered.

I am pretty sure that I should stop fishing alone. It is kind of
stupid to go there and spend all my time but find nothing.
What's worse is that it was dark and any sound could
make me feel scared. I didn't feel so scared when we went
fishing together even if it was dark.

So even though you are only six years old, you are
absolutely important. You make me very brave.
Now I am not brave any more.

I hope you can be brave there.

mom

This is the story of two little birds,
forced to keep their story unheard.
One quite frail with legs so lean,
the other a bit large, eyes of ivy green.
They met in the forest just barely hatched,
when they came across one another in the forest thatch.
They’d fly next to each other, side by side,
how sad their love, they had to hide.
They tried not to let their wings touch,
touching only a little, at least not that much.
They kept flying yet couldn’t seem to find the light,
their wings were tired from putting up with the fight.
At night they’d try to sleep, together in their nest,
comforting his beloved, the smaller tried his best.
‘Why can’t we love?’
Neither knew the answer as the moon shined above.
Sadness took over the bigger ones heart,
never wanting to ever be torn apart.
He was tired of being told no,
trying his hardest not to let go.
The smaller one whispered while taking in the cold breeze,
‘Hold on, stay brave for me, please...’

to begin is always scary
difficult and beyond grasp
to stay stagnant however;
dreaming the same dream
and not doing anything
afraid of change and discoveries
unwilling to fly
I guess it is more frightening
Than taking the first steps
That would lead you
To wherever
As long as it is not the same place.