I am walking towards a park to feel a sense of life and to await my companion. I walk past countless familiar faces and potential kindred souls only to end up here at a red light waiting to cross.
"Why, how and when?"
The park was alive on this cool October Thursday evening, well, almost evening. I walk across the grassy field, under the trees and upon the fallen leaves which decorated this ground. It once was green and now its an unpleasant brown. I walk and I kick the leaves, feel a breeze and I pull my coat around me. Squirrels are hoarding, birds are chirping and a sole singer is singing a song about Moondances and October skies. This grassy area is surrounded by benches occupied by loners who while the day away with pen and paper.

School children, set free from the prisons they occupy 8 til 4 every day - run wildly, some singing, some screaming, some crying and some laughing. Parents are all in otherworldly mindsets filled with questions...
"Why, how and when?"
I walk towards an empty bench and sit there with my pen and paper. Whiling the time away 'til my love gets here hopefully right on time.

A lone ice cream truck playing a familiar tune hoping to hypnotize the children into begging for a cone, or a cup of Italian ices...but even the kids know its too cold and too late for that and he starts his engine and drives away.

I've been a loner, I have been a loser and my heart has been broken, taken out, cleaned and put back in...with nothing but a scar that runs down my torso as proof. But I stand tall and I stand proud - "I do it my way." I smile to myself. I hear in the next bench a couple speaking and the woman begins to cry...


"Why, how and when?"

I can feel the cold setting in.
Each morning is more bitter and frostbitten than the last.
The air and my thoughts are becoming stale, dry, and unpleasant.
The sun does not warm me anymore.
Like me it seems to have become weary.
The birds are gone.
All life seems to have abandoned this place.
Ice clings to my bedroom window, begging to expire in the warmth of a living room fire.
Smoke rises from the chimneys, covering this world in cold ashes and grey.
A life of color now painted banal and mundane.
I can feel the frozen air seeping in, slowly chilling me to my core.
With every passing night I grow colder and slower.
I have become eternally internally tired.
I end each dream embracing the boreal winds.
Ice evaporates into my thoughts.
I can feel the cold setting in.

When I was little my mother put me in several ballet classes in hopes to bring some grace to my stumbling gait.

I grew up walking on eggshells, wobbling to keep my balance on a tightrope that never really ended.

 My instructor pinched my thighs and shook her bony finger at me every tuesday and thursday for three and a half years.

4 am, I'm still tiptoeing around the creaks in the stairs as if anyone would notice an empty bed.

 This Christmas I came across the broken reminents of the ballerina ornaments my younger sister used to play with.

I never did master the delicate posture I was expected to adopt. My feet fell a bit too heavy, I suppose, on the ice tonight.

I'm not cold anymore, just exhausted from attempting to balance the wrong things for too long.

My life is flashing before my eyes, but all I see is a younger version of myself practicing Grand Battements on thin ice while everyone slept.

Spirits and feeling
And something other than nothing
And fire in your belly
And dancing nerves in your fingers
And baby they've never danced like ice & fire
But when ice & fire dance you better watch
Your body's gonna burn down to bones
And we'll turn those to dust too, baby trust me
Don't you trust me?
I'llmakeyoufeelagain
I can make you feel again
Baby, the music's starting
So pay attention.

The color has finally returned to my lips
I am no longer chilled by your presence
The ice is thawing
I am now healing
So dear God please stay away from me

I touched a fire once,
Unwillingly,
Unknowingly,
We are from the sea,
But not all are one with the sea,
Black, Deep, Rough,
Terrifying traits we all posses,
Like that of our womb.
If you're not happy in the ocean
You're the devil in disguise.
There are few who've rose from the core,
The flames red and hot like their passion,
And i touched one once,
Unwillingly,
Unknowingly.