I found my mom’s wedding dress
in the attic the other day.
It was carelessly sprawled across dusty boxes of junk,
hiding in the corner of the room
as if it didn’t want to be noticed.

I remember it used to be beautiful.
It was once dove white
with intricate beading lavishly sewn into the bodice.
It had a full, glossy train that flowed behind her with each step she took.
It was glamorous
and expensive.
I remember she looked like an angel that day.

But it is no longer beautiful.
It lies unprotected in my attic,
vulnerable to the dust and rodents
that keep it company.
It’s color has faded to a **** yellow.
The beading is mostly scattered on the floor.
The train is frayed and torn
and I counted a few holes where the moths must
have gotten to it.
The dress is no longer glamorous.
My mom is no angel.

I found my mom’s wedding dress
in the attic the other day.
It was abandoned.
Like the rest of us.

How many times
Have I dressed up I'm sorry
Passed blame onto different parts of myself
Pieces of who I am
Juggling reasons
Motivations behind my mistakes
How many frightened goodbye's
Please don't leave me's
I'll always love you's
Have graced your tired ears
Remember when I broke you
Once
Twice
Then again
It used to taste so sweet
That first mending kiss
The one that sewed us back together
Our present, our future
Now there's a tear
That can
But won't be mended
So once again
I'm sorry
Not for the usual things
The ones I can fix
But for the things that I can't
Like you
And like me
The spaces in between

Irena, won’t you sing for me
The day is almost done
I see the sun’s long, glist’ning rays
Upon kissed altar stones

They bid goodbye to Daylight’s glee
As Dusk crawls in to keep
My world in constant pace despite
The tasks in mounting heaps

Irena, should you lose your song
Don’t weep, sky-speckled friend
For I have one to comfort me
And croon with Love no end

Like yours, her ballad fills my life
With harmony, pure light
My aging pen is a nightingale
In the deadness of the night.

It works that way
I cannot write about someone
Unless I have felt a certain way
Unless there it is
The potential
I can no longer be without them.

I let time pass
Which I never do
Once I am inspired
I will write on the spot
Under any circumstance

On my brown skin with a marker
On the back of this flyer
Even on the magazine cover
That belongs to the hair parlor.

I think of you fondly
But my wont to write
Never comes out ardently
The paper still blank
Though I let months turn things around.

Writing is my sole indicator
If not on paper,
It will not last in time either.

is it just me?
I don't think so..
Is it just me
that's what I've been told
Im getting real sick of all this *******
all this dull ****
Im real sick
if you don't love me then be on your way
you aren't a necessity in my life today
I don't need you if you wont want me
so  if that's the case
you can be replaced
is it just me?
I don't think so...
Is it just me?
That's what eve been told
But that's ok if that's the case
I don't need fake friends in my life today

Aching for someone's kiss
I reached out to a player.
Seeking affectionate amor
I reached
Out
To
A liar,

Aching for just one to hold me
I sold myself for less,
Degrading
My
Self.,,,,,,
In the process.

Aching for an aching lie
An itching tale
I kept looking
For doosies
Being a flusie
In other detail.

Aching
Wanting
Desiring to have.
I lost the past things that were good!

My advice to those
Seeking
Amor-----
Give and except your
Amor
To and from god
He is
The one who won't
Cheat
Lie
Steal from
Hurt
Or beat
Scorn
Tear
Burn
Or bruise you,

God
The amor worth fighting for---------
And also
Its an everlasting relationship-
He won't leave you!