Fly away now little bird you're free.

Be one with the wind and find a nice tree.

I hope you find someone and treats you like me.


I may be gone but i still care.

I hope no one hurts you while you're there.

If you need me i'll be here.

Waiting and thinking you're still here.

Caged bird set free
but what is she free from?
Security, protection and a helicopter that span above her head...just to make sure.
She’s free from a myriad of ‘where were you!’s and numerous raised words.
She’s free from a yellow orangey pink sunny kind of life.
Now the bubble’s popped.

She only has the yellow orangey pink of a sunset,
that’s where the problems really start.

Moments of peace are fleeting;
just as dew will vanish at dawn.
Smile and savor the seconds
'cause before you know it they're gone.

husks of air pass
the shelled yellow left in fields
lake water like a bath that once
washed worries away.

this dry that takes my throat,
I ask it to tickle my cheek,
caress my soul,
embody the years passing me by.

Be my keeper of gone days;
I will carry you in whims yet-to-be.

In the heat of summer,
I thought I'd remember the sword forever,
amidst new memories will there linger,
the burn of a poker on my chest,
the rips in my skin,
blood racing down my thighs,
remnants of the steel that pierced my skin.

The brown leaves fall,
and the blood no longer leaves traces on skin,
the ghost of the sword is made of stainless steel,
nights filled with owls,
shadows in every room,
remnants of the steel that pierced my skin.

The cold winds grow,
no one to call, no one to hold,
the sword is sharp and cutting,
the storm weathers on,
rain on my windows,
remnants of the steel that pierced my skin.

The flowers begin to grow,
the smell is sweet, a tempting promise,
the sword is rusted,
the blood has been washed from my skin,
every warm memory fills my mind,
remnants of the steel that pierced my skin,
gone at last.

I want to say please don’t leave,
I still have your coat in my wardrobe
and it looks like you can’t have gone far,
and please don’t leave, I don’t know
where else I’m supposed to stay
when it’s two in the morning
and everything feels like communion,
and please don’t leave, I am having to confront
how selfish I am.

So you’re leaving, and I’m trying to work out
if I should pack my memories into little boxes
and pretend that you’ve died, and you’re leaving
so I’m on the floor in my bedroom thinking
about going somewhere and trying to find Judas
or at least a tree with sturdy branches and the end
of a rainbow with thirty silver coins as compensation.

And now you’ve left, or at least made the decision
to leave, and here I am again trying to wave you off
with images in my mind of the Titanic leaving behind
everyone who couldn’t afford to die so grandly;
you’ve left, and I’m using metaphors to talk about this
because it’s easier than genuflecting and joining
a faceless pew - sorry, don’t think I’m calling myself Jesus
because I’m not. Really, I’m not. But you’ve left,
so don’t I have the right to call myself what I want?

It’s not like you’re here to stop me. There’s that word,
gone,
like it’s final, like you’ve joined the laundry list
of everyone who said they’d be there forever. You’re gone,
and I’m promising myself that I’ll stop being addicted
to people, only cigarettes and cheap wine and the feeling
of missing something when it isn’t quite packed up
into all of the final moving boxes just yet.

Want, wish, demand, require
Ought, take, command, desire

Hoping, stealing, dreaming, and pleading
Coping, healing, feeling, now needing

My mind is a veritable vortex of emotion
Don't look so alarmed; you caused this commotion

Wait, stay, live, try
Anticipate, gravitate, give, cry

Feeling, flushing, regretting, and thinking
Dealing, bluffing, forgetting, now drinking

The storm is dying down, it's so tranquil
Time kills all, let's be thankful

Argue, lie, forgive, make-up
Construe, divide, relive, break-up

Releasing, dismissing, ceasing, and grieving
Escaping, missing, decreasing, now leaving

End of the line, time to let go
What once was is all you'll know

Flashing grasp of an idea
Before our youths were ever cashed in.
Held onto our chips, played close to the vest
                    in snow.
You were never enough sleeping,
And I guess I was just dreaming
                    of passing
                        ships
                    in the night
            and your signal lights
                        aglow.

                  ...in the foam...

Adventure was calling a heart slow to age,
the same as it had back in our young Old Days.
               So, some things don't change.

I remember, in the Winter,
Trudging quick to campus coffee shop.
Your wet hair frozen, and my breath in that
                    moment...

Springtime flash of our confessions
Just as our youths were getting cashed in.
Released all our chips we'd held close to our chests.
                    Let go.
We were lovers for a season
'til a sudden Summer leaving
                    a passing
                     of boats
                      in heat
             put our oars down
                and we rowed.

That feeling was calling my heart--"Time to age!"
Still falling, like it had in our young Old Days.
                         I guess some things don't change.

Along the way,
You must have fossilized inside me.
Lightning on waves--
Metastasized my bad dreams.
And, over time, see that I was a distraction
                                   No traction,
                                   No chance,
and no time for empty grief...
                         ...it's only brief, love,
                                still I did sink.