Early morning
Sitting on the bench

A blackbird came along
Stuffed his beak with straw

Then flew away
Building a nest I suspect

Keith Wilson

I kind of miss how it was back then. I regret alot of things, but I wish I could go back in time and relive it all, even all the things I regret. Although I may be a bit slow and stupid at times, at least I was a sincere and good willed person. I may not have known how to express myself, but I always did feel genuine happiness being around others. However, now I'm not sure whether I can continue being a genuine person anymore. Although I'm so much more insightful now, along with that insight came more bitterness and resentment to weigh me down. I'm not sure if I have the strength to let the good side of me win in the end. Life really is a struggle. All the more so when you are the only one who can acknowledge your internal struggles. All the more so when you can acknowledge the choices you can make... but you may not have the strength that it takes to not give in to the bitterness and resentment that builds as you grow older. It's so easy to let yourself go, to let your conscience drown and sink into a bottomless, deep, dark pit where there's nothing but just anger, emptiness, remorse, self pity, an empty will to live. It's so easy....
Sometimes all my words are just another hidden form of calling out for help. It makes me feel so pathetic and weak willed, but there is not much else I can do without harming myself or the people around me.
I suppose somewhere within this tangled mess of a life, I just feel lost and dazed, and alone. I don't mean anyone else harm though; I never have and never will.
I kind of miss how it was back then.
Even though I may have been a bit slow and stupid at times, even if that had been apparent, couldn't you all have just accepted, maybe even loved, me for who I was, for the innocence, sincerity, kindness, and unconditional love I expressed?

her ring sits on the mantlepiece
worn thin on one side
that dull warm yellow
that gold sometimes takes on

i remember it cutting into my hand
as she held it tightly as we shopped
it was bright and shiny then

she used to wear it on her  longest finger
after dad left us, she left it off for awhile
and then wore it on the other hand

it was tight on her workworn hands then
she took it off again before she went into
this last home, but kept it locked in a security draw

now it sits on the mantlepiece, waiting
for me to find a safe place for it
for it is the little bit of my mother's spirit
that will one day be part of my son's  wedding ring,

The moon’s pale light caresses me
My desire wakes by the moon’s glow
Dreaming under the Willow tree
The moon’s pale light caresses me
Passion is ignited and set free
Dark lust leaves me feeling ******
I dream of him in naughty glee
My desire wakes by the moon’s glow

Kelly Rose
© April 8, 2018

The clouds, then the years
drag through my hair
like a plow traveling through
this sandy gray soil of mine

There are many theories of time
like words that can pass
into the mouth of a Mason jar
and stay there forever, and last
like a message at sea floating far

How is it there are trails
you cannot follow for being
so **** dog tired, something
now, and not was, returned
from so many journeys

I have not set my foot down
in this nest of copperheads
to break the eggs or be bitten,
this is simply where I wanted
to be struck and born.

I have loved you for a thousand years
And failed you a thousand more
I get lost in the taste you leave in my mouth
Of blood and salt
And they were both my own
Let us go home
So we can be alone
To hide myself under your touch