Sometimes we laugh
Sometimes we cry
The people around us
Wonder why
What makes us happy
What makes us sad
What makes us smile
What makes us mad
And that's alright
If they use the information well
To help us through
Days of hell
Sadness is a sort of spell
That transports us
Back to the shell
Of what we were
Before the sadness came to life
And doing all we could to survive
Cut off a bit
Split
I try today
A return trip
So afraid
Of all my truths
Of yesterday

I walked into a room where nobody knew my face.
Slowly some approached "Are you so and so?" "Yes." I said.
"You don't look like yourself." No, I think. Clothes do not make the man. The words do. You know my words.

Vintage clothing fun to wear
Riding a horse getting away from me
Perfume made of wet earth

A house whistling in emptiness
Continental Educator Chocolate Morsels Farina Brown Sugar
Old linen closets that squeak
Ghosts wrapped in sheets sitting on beds
Ice Box Cookies Thin Mints
Children wrapped in rooms empty of joy
Raisins Honey Almonds Melons Coconuts
Books read to you as you read
Dates Carrots Figs Pomegranates Apples

Messy winds through my hair
Winter coats collected as yesterday's old news
Setting my forgotten self straight

clothes do make the man
with a warm wind at my back
now I live more carefully

People exchanging words
Poetic chats
Connecting them
To presents and pasts
Friendships grown
Over a screen
Words read
Known
Understood
And believed