We grew up in the same small town,
summers brushing by like strangers.
One day, you came by during band practice,
and wrote down titles of my CD collection,
and I smiled.

Years later, we crossed paths in Toronto,
you, studying to heal others,
We never named what we were;
sleepovers, meals shared,
your love for my cat, our weekends together.

I think of you sometimes,
your voice from Europe, the music in bed,
your quirky and dorky self, so unguarded.
And though we’ve drifted,

I know you’re well;
still carrying that quiet grace,
living the life you deserve.

— Sincerely, Boris

I was floating in honey.
The viscosity of the substance
Made it so that, while I still needed to work
To keep my head afloat,
I had a little extra support.
So I didn't have to do it alone.
And it was good.

But my temperature began to rise.
I became too hot too fast, and,
Because of my actions
I started to destroy the beneficial parts
That the honey needed to remain useful and healthy.
So the honey reacted:
Threw my melting self out of its jar.
I tried to jump back in
But the honey firmly ******* its lid back on,
And my charring fists
Fruitlessly pounded on the boundary
The honey had erected.

Then as my body and brain burned,
The other honey jars disappeared-
Distancing in acts of self-preservation.
I knew how I could get my temperature
Back to baseline.
I just needed a little help
So I could work to get back to my normal self.
But my actions had pushed away what I needed.
So I accepted the fate I had caused,
And allowed my body to fall to ash.

Suddenly you transformed
Into a broken mirror.
All of the ugly, fragmented shards
Of my soul
Staring right back at me.

I.
my lips
sewed together
with perfectly stitched thread
through thin needle holes

the wounds
still wounds
not healed
over the years

the daily torture
of wanting to speak
but not being able
to tell


II.
my hands
shaking
excessively clinging
to the thin rubber band

my voice
trembling
as i try to unwrap
one syllable after another

the aching in the throat
as i try to describe
in as little detail
the things i went through

III.
as soon
as the words
left my mouth
almost as silent
as a short breath

i leave
the room
you sitting there
trying to grasp

what i had just coughed up
and disappeard
directly after
realizing i actually did

IV.
i am nowhere
and everywhere
at once
i am there again

you try to unwrap
the tangled words
the things unsaid
the thoughts not spoken

i slip out of reality
and suddenly
i hear you say
loud and clearly

"It was not your fault. It never was and it never will be."

Tara grew up, planted
Firm in the loam
Like that southern plantation
A farm was her home

She shot up like a sapling
She swayed with the breeze
Wind scented with lilac
And magnolia trees.

Around her the horses
Needed nurturing care
Then they needed exercise
Tara was there.

Now a physical therapist
She helps folks along
When they are feeble
She helps them to be strong.

That's how I met you
It is to this end.
I need to be strengthend
I'm glad you're my friend!


💜 Cathy