I don’t understand why it feels so far away,
like the blue comforter I cried for, but you never gave me.
Wasn’t it supposed to be soft,
something to hold me when the nights felt endless?

Instead, I lay exposed beneath the weight of cold air,
wondering if I had asked for too much,
if the silence meant I wasn’t meant to be held.
Was it me, or was it everything else,
that made you keep it just out of reach?

And even now, I can’t help but wonder —
what would it have felt like to pull it close,
to finally be warm, and believe I belonged?

a white picket fence; half in between
where men made bruises and batter
women kept secrets hidden in their lips
throwing away the keys

running to plastered trailer walls
a home i thought it could be
that peeled at its seams
my father tried to keep his hands rough enough
for the dirt to fall off of my skin,
his arms to comfort me
so much could only stand an amount of time
after barbecuing underneath overgrown peach trees,
shopping for strawberry lip gloss at mall city
now laying in piles of clothes,
behind brown leather sofas,
in a chipping bath with a jug of Hennessy,

his hollowness followed me in midnight internet schemes
where i thought love would soon be
only to find men calling to make more batter
and i soon, became a women of locked lips
answering with clothes off, her hair *******
in attempt to make a new white picket fence dream,
half in between

i stood on the wide, dried green field, holding my gaze with the piercing green eyes locked on me. they bring full flooded memories of what used to be. his hand holding mine flashes before my eyes, myself slipping out of bed with him fast asleep behind me, and the nancy drew book slouched between our pillows. the walls close in on me, and the drowsiness tilts my head up only to hear the trailer door slam shut with footsteps running away. it slammed shut away in my head, where i am back to standing in this field. he is now running towards me and I am running far far far away.

There are memories that I have
Some I like some I would rather
Forget.  But the ones I want to remember
That make me. ….me !  Are the a
T
  A
       M
            O
                G
                    O
                        T
                           C
                               H
                                    I
Fall leaves as my niece and nephew played in them
The sight of a jack o lantern
These are the memories that made me
This is my brain finger print of the past
Now
O
      N
To the future

Let's get back to basics
To find our origin our source
We have strayed so far away
The ship is now off course
Go back to the time that grace found you
Remember the joy your soul knew
There, in that moment, you ended
And God began
You are a new creation; so beautiful
You have a new life; so immutable
Where was it that we lost our way
When did we forget to play and pray
The devil may be in the details
But God has the whole picture
Satan tries and, ultimately, fails
Against the Living Loving Word of Scripture
Let's go back to where we were
Before the demands of life began
To have faith so great and pure
To rest knowing we are in His hand
Let's go back and try to relearn
The knowledge that love isn't something to be earned
It is a gift, a sacrifice; it is open and free
And it does something amazing for you and for me
Let's go back to when life was still simple
Where innocence could still be found
Where life's simple pleasures were routine
Where hope was full, and joy would last
Let's bring back the child-like faith
And let's get back to the basics