Out of sight
Out of mind
Somehow yesterday wasn't left behind
Still isn't working
Incomplete dreams on rewind
Saying or singing Let it go isn't enough
Compromise doesn't work all the time
Keep your vitality up at all costs
You cast your kite into the sky
Flying it your own way
No regrets
No regrets

C@rainbowchaser2021

I remember this day…

Looking out the window,
feeling the stray droplets;
Tasting the scent of moisture
as the chill of the soft breeze
laces the deep breaths I take…

As I once did…

I remember this day…
To be one that I’ve lived before.

we do not write poetry
we write mirrors
which are held up
to curious faces
who read
looking for their
own reflections

“Have you ever kissed a lover
so hard
you chipped a tooth?”
she asked
with a grin that
revealed more than one
chipped tooth

He shook his head. “No, and I
really don’t intend
to.”

Well, that’s what you get
for hitting
on a girl you meet
in the yard of the local asylum. But
she said she was a
nurse...

“Anyway,” he said. “If this is what happened
to you… What happened
to him? I mean,
after the kiss.”

“Oh, there were many,
many kisses actually,” she said. “He’s
dead now.”

“What? He died?”

“Well, yeah, dogs don’t
live that much. Compared to humans,
I mean.”

Dream in words and lines
They marinate
Black and white
Colors unimagined or named
The words awaken us and accomplish their feat
Do we dream verses?
Do they talk with us as if to say Write me down?
Record me
Take me to a higher level
Your fault if you forget
Sculpt me and find a fresh new way with me
My forever friend
Somehow you will accompany me now and forever more
So it goes and continues
Anatomy of a poem

c@rainbowchaser2021

It became more and more
obvious
There was a storm inside her

growing ever stronger

and she sought
to terminate it
before it was too late

It's arguably more difficult to
terminate such storms
when you're fifteen
and still living with your parents

so she decided not to
share her struggle
with them
and reached inside her
for the eye of the storm
with a steel wire she'd kept in
a bottle of hand sanitizer for a day
and a night

Yes, the first raindrops painted the
white of the bathtub

they were crimson
and salty

like her tears