Little Lindsay lied a lot,
to anyone with ears.
Twisting, turning every thought -
she’d used others for years.
One day she thought she’d pull the wool
over a well trained eye;
forgetting all that would be felt,
through face or words can’t hide.

Up in the air, in blinding clouds, she’d wrinkle at the nose.
For her best mate, her trusted friend
had dried up at the hose.

Riddling lips, grasped one last time,
she tried hard to save face.
But little Lindsay played so poor,
embarrassing disgrace.

For could one trust another who could hate from the shadows?
You’d never know if love and care was being kept in tow.

Letters writ, with seeming guilt, though through those lines remained
the little lies of which every relation would be strained

Stepped into the page store today,
The rain is making my brain throb.
A stroller pass as I drop my keys,
A wet stain in my sweatpants.
Grabbed two books that many have read,
Will I ever? Perhaps not, yet I buy.
I ask for help to find what’s staring at me
From an upbeat older guy.
The second unread, but committing to the third;
Maybe this is where motivation will arise.
But as for now, I humbly pray, for the throbbing to exit my eyes.

"A gentle nudge,"
that made me cringe
and want to puke a bit.
Through lock and key, many walls with cracks,
we never speak of it.
But you saw light, and gravitated,
urging openness.
Fear choking, punching, caving, thrashed -
let's finally begin.

I will go back tomorrow to the place we knew
so well.
You’d squat in boots and skinny jeans
I’d glance, my heart would swell.
But now I have my sights set on some papers bound in glue.
It doesn’t hurt so bad today to reminisce of you.
I’ve figured what I’m looking for you never could provide -
Though what you once did long ago I wish will again be mine,
But from a mouth that doesn’t hold such sharp hostility.
For all I tried to do was the best of my abilities.
Not your fault, or mine, perhaps
That really is the truth.
A waitress follows to the door as you fled from the booth.
You introduced me to situations that didn’t hold my care,
It’s a new year and optimism is fragrant in my air.
I know it now, what it may mean to truly wish the best,
But here on out I know what’s safe to keep close to my chest.
Your morals slipped as did the mask and finger pointed wrong;
resentment beginning to blossom where I see it took so long
For me to understand that I was nothing but a kid,
Objectified as flowers, mothers, sunrises you could rid.
Arms wrapped tightly around myself, I whisper in her ear,
“You didn’t deserve that, baby. It will be better on from here.”

Cheekbones hot,
Tears shockingly cold,
Anger is consuming.
A disguise for the loneliness that is
Suffocating me.
Christmas Eve solidarity.
Exhausted doesn’t begin to define
What’s felt behind my sternum.
Screaming, fighting, running -
None of it works.
The bigger person never feels big.
I feel so, so small.

My eyes are blurry
Painful lump in my throat
You would never
But most wouldn’t I guess
Worse before
I feel more now
My cheeks are hot

Coolant pooling on the ground
A pinhole in my tank
If anyone is making tiers
Put Chevy in lower ranks