I wrote ...I erased...
I refined it....then wrote it again.

The words....of the memories....
Writing the soul....with different stories.

Calmed breathing...finally controlled...
Pulse under normal...then.... I let go.

She gave me life and delivered me, into this wondrous world
She took my hand and guided me, as the mysteries unfurled.
She taught me to be loving, and all the time she smiled
Now the child becomes the parent and the parent, the child.

She encouraged me to study, and learn all that I could
She taught me to be confident, while doing what was good.
She urged me to have faith, when life’s challenges beguiled
Now the child becomes the parent and the parent, the child.

She taught me to be compassionate, a most important teaching
She taught me loving kindness, her gift was future reaching.
As now she needs these back from me, as lost memories are filed
For the child has become the parent and the parent, the child.

--Victor Fuhrman ©

there is a monster in my closet, she speaks with two mouths and keeps dents on her wrists and feet.
The monster is terrifying, she uses needle teeth to tear through the skin of lovers. Her eyes brim with tears made from glass.
And sometimes The monster gets really really sad......
The monster uses her needles and blades to rip tears of copper into snow white skin and she whispers her sweet nothings into her closet full of sin.
Now my carpet is stained with copper and static, I can't walk in my closet or The monster goes manic.

I spent my day breathing life into my memories.

I often walk or sit among them.
I give them
the attention they ask for
to maintain their roots.

I administer
the moisture they desire
to retain their colour
their scent.

I know they aren't
what they used to be
but they grow with me
and give me hope
for more
more beauty
more life
and more to live for.

I spent my day with my memories.