Do you miss me...
I miss you more than the oceans would miss the moon.
I remember you,but more than memories,more than thoughts,
more than feelings,
I miss you with my spirit,
from everlasting to everlasting.
Your soft mother like eyes,your voice that soothed every heartache,
your soft thin skinned hands that were more gentle than a deer with its new born baby doe.
Through my child's heart I was overwhelmed with your beautiful,
treasure filled acceptance of me.
Who I was and who I was going to be...simply me.
You helped me feel true loving kindness,laughter, and awe
of the world and it's earth filled goodness.
You were my favorite book that came to life
and your story showed me how to treat and respect mankind with
an open hand of giving.
Please miss me even though you are covered in glory,
wait for me as I yearningly wait for you.
I love you...always have,always will.

I feel myself slipping back into what I once relied on, observing the pigment of crimson forming upon my wrist, slowly moving its way to my palm and to the cracks between my fingers. The exhilarating feeling it brings, the sense of comfort for that mere moment where you feel as if the life has come back to you and you are no longer a reflection in the mirror.. In that moment you're not a figment of imagination in someone else's cruel world. Yet it becomes an addiction few understand, it is not to gain the attention of another but in fact a proclamation of sheer freedom from fighting your inner demons for just another day.

Light head carrying me forward on leaden feet.
Someone else’s body under my clothes today.
This lethargy and this ethereal pain, drags.
Drags me sweating out of sleep,
Drags my brain behind my body.
That smile that looks real on my face,
Still doesn’t touch my eyes.
I’m wearing it so long, who’d know?
Same thoughts turn over and over,
One more day becomes one more hour,
Celebrating pointless little victories.
Torturing me, wearing on me.
Killing me the hard way.
;

It was almost spring here,
the purple light snuck in
cutting the overcast sky
and the venetian blinds.

The last snow lay out in the yard
slowly melting there
like something sad
but also something beautiful.

My kitten crawled up under my arm,
she lay her little head in my lap,
stretching out her paws
and yawning the way cats often do.

Soon it will be dark
but for now I live in the twilight
almost spring, almost night,
almost alive and almost dead.

As a ginger, I'm inclined to say fox. I've always had an affinity for those cunning, red canines.

But if it's just for a day then perhaps something a bit more adventurous. I suppose I would choose to be a cheetah.

Fastest land animal in the world, agile, and speckled.

Nobody messes with a cheetah. Not because they’re so hulking or intimidating— just more fascinating than terrifying.

We travelled to South Africa once, my family and I. As a tribe we chased wild creatures down with cameras in jeeps in a raucous yet hushed thrill.  

The cheetah was one of the few animals that eluded us. Perhaps having never seen one up close is partially what draws me to them.  

Mysterious, as well as evasive, with an "I don't give a ****" attitude.

They only eat every so often because catching food is such a feat. When they do hunt however, it's one of the most spectacular things in the natural world.

It's why places that sell tv's show footage of cheetahs running in slow motion over and over on a dizzying loop; demonstrating how clear the pixels are in the plasmas. It's mesmerizing.

Their feet move too fast and fly over the dirt, honed in on whatever poor gazelle or kudu they're after. If you're a cheetah that is your body, your thin bones, your rapid heart and beating paws that make you move in such a blur.

To be a cheetah for a day is feeling and knowing the difference between machine and muscle. Humans have found ways to fly, and people regularly move faster than a top speed of 75mph.

But how sublime it would be!
To be solely and purely responsible for that unparalleled speed just for one day.

tonight, something a little
stronger than poison
runs through my veins

it festers, intangible,
pretty like belladonna,
sweet like nightshade

it sways in the wind
of my lungs, it has it's
own tune you see.

i know it's a plague,
like him, we've all
been infected once.

tonight, it's angry,
venomous,
gardens of deep rose

and happiness returns
to being but a distant,
wavering sun.