We shelter secrets, holding them close
and encrypted. Hidden truths,
like submerged rocks that create
snapping undercurrents and choppy,
white-capped rapids for navigating affinities.

I'm an athlete.
I can throw and catch,
and run in the sun-
all shiny and bright.
And you just sleep, sleep, sleep.

Look at me, mama.
I'm a writer.
I do poetry and stories,
all pretty and pink,
and all you do is,
sleep, sleep, sleep.

Look at me, mama.
I can dance.
I'm lonely,
I'll move to France,
meet a woman, and get married.
Look at the ants crawl through
the spilled red juice on
the grass, nature everywhere,
as you sleep, sleep, sleep. 

Look mama,
Look at me, mama!
I have children now,
all good and wise,
you're a grandma.
Why don't you wake up?

Please look at me, mama.
Open your eyes.
I'm lonely and afraid.
I'm old now, and cold,
and you still,
just
sleep, sleep, sleep...

Small soft light pink little flowers,
on a background of black demp stones with sand and water.
I’m aching but still walking.
I do not ever want to lose you.

It is torture, it is pleasure.
This way I can’t live.
With you I’m stuck in the day.
But at night I’m finally free.
Free from this world.

Totally gone.
In a dance, a movement, a moment.
Holding on to that.
When the day is not mine and nothing feels right, stuck in here waiting.
Waiting, biting, burning & bursting in agony.

My hands wrapped around my chest.
Biting on the steel in my mouth.
Why do I continue?
Just for the moments when I can escape.
Into a garden of small soft pink little flowers.
On a background of black demp stones with sand and water.

Water me!
Let me drink purity and let me lie down in the stream of the dark water.
Peacefully.
Water the soft pink flowers, I know they will never die.

The stream is always running.
My screams are always coming from the deep depths of life.
On the inside.
I don’t want to be inside this life, this world.
When I’m not escaping.
When I’m only waiting in a day that’s not mine.

When nothing’s alright.
It’s a torture & it’s a pleasure.
This way I can’t live.
With you I’m stuck in the day.
But at night I’m finally free.

Let me feel free, running down the stream.
Letting it all come.
Lying in here all calm.
Calm, come with me.

And I want to escape in a dance.
In the world that I choose.
That I feel.
That feels me.
I want you here.
I do not ever want to lose you but I need to be in that world that I choose.

Oh come on.
It’s not right.
I’m tuning in to the deep within.
Telling the source of my agony.
Let me go.
I try to let my body fall down into the sky.
And I’ll be fine, I’ll make it through for a while.
I have patience and just be.
Try my best.
But I don’t like it anymore.
It hurts all the time.
It’s not right.
Oh come on.

Maybe I no longer want to fight.
Not looking like I just got out of battle most of the time.
Some days I want to be clean and at peace even when I'm still sad.
I want to be able to walk in a long dress with long dark hair waving around my face.
No tears or blood streaming.
I am a raven but I'm also a woman.
I want to walk with an old lover.
Or a good friend.
Through the field and sing songs even when they're sad.
Not always screaming through the pain.
But walk barefoot on the grass and embrace all the beauty that's surrounding us.
Not be blinded by my tired flooded eyes.
Not lie there exhausted by myself in a half dead place with my shoes full of mud.
My strength always being spent.
My head always swollen, covered in red.
Teeth grinded from the pain.
I want to fly as I walk in peace to the sounds that are meant to be.
Meant to heal.
Meant to nourish the soul.
And I want to share this feeling with the source instead of sharing an explosion of pain.
Every day.