He shivered. She had a wart on her just too long nose, a budding zit on her chin. You could just see it waiting to pop. Hair gray and charcoal, smeared in a greasy way.
Happily, he saw his mom.


The Marylin Monroe-mask was a frightening joke.

Tick tock
I ate the clock
Or not

I drank
The wine from the grapes
The grapes the same mouse
That ate my watch's wristband

Ate
The cat ate the mouse
The same cat that swallowed
And after eating

Puked up
My shoelaces, again.
Maybe I can forgive
The lack of laces

The eating of grapes
But the hiccups I
Endure after drinking
Never fail to give me

A headache

I saw you this morning
And did not know you
I felt you this morning
But who are you?

Trust, love, faith
Those are your names
Care, cherish, support
Those are your names

A dream
Early morning
Asleep
Yet conscious

You left an impression
Of feelings I did not know
Yet having never felt them
I now know they are real

Maybe you are out there
Maybe you are not
Now at least I know
Those feelings, that trust

That love, that faith
In one another
Can be real
And I have settled for less

I may have settled in my settling
But now I know
And will never forget
You and what may be

No matter how tough
I may seem
No matter how loved
I may be

No matter how much
I tried and may still
Seem to try

After this last,
This final betrayal
I cannot but give in
Give up

I give up trying
To be better
Better than I can
Be better than I am

I can give up
Trying
But will never give
Up caring

I will give up
Fabricating lies
To please, to accomodate
People I do not seem to know

I will give up
Fabricating a life
To placate, to appease
People who do not seem to care

I will start
Realising a dream
To create, to build
A person that is worthy

I will be
Trying a new way
To live, to give
A person to myself

For I am, so I learn
Everyday
Everyway
No more hiding

Twisting tendrils of realization
Run through my evermoving mind

Up unto the age of eighteen
I abhorred alliteration

The seemingly simple
Style showed, I thought

An easy way of writing
Whatever

Just finding fitting words
With meanings matching.

Untill I read The Raven
Poe penned what is

I think, the epitome
Of epic poems

All while writing, in a weirdly
Woven way

A story of love lost
Of wishing gone awry

So since then I sometimes
Try to match "my" master

And in writing wishes
With no reasonable rhyme

I uncover my understanding
Of my own simplistic stupidity

But beside that also, always,
Of how beautiful a language loved
Can be.