This is the story of my Juliet;

Of her Montague and his Capulet.

Roses smell sweet with no care of their name,

But with “Montague”, this just isn’t the same.



As a cruel joke, fate bonded their hearts,

For fate knew too well that they’d be torn apart;

Torn apart like the brawling in the public square,

Where Montagues and Capulets disagreed there.



I am the one whom Romeo loved,

Before he’d first seen his Capulet dove.

It happened quite fast, and inside the year,

We were something akin to the three musketeers.



We knew if the secretive lovers were caught,

They’d both be destroyed; impaled on the spot.

So I covered for them, and I helped them along,

And I did my best to sing over their song.



I witnessed the wedding, the friar’s compliance

In hopes that the families would form an alliance.

And while I had my doubts, I kept my lips sealed;

I allowed them to hope the tooth fairy was real.



Soon after that, I was with Romeo and his friend,

When Tybalt came along and caused Mercutio’s end.

I ran after Romeo, begging “Please! Use your head!”

But it was to no avail, and soon Tybalt was dead.



So Romeo was banished, and I sat with his wife;

I comforted her as she wept of her strife.

She was almost alright, but fate slipped on its gloves,

And she was betrothed to a man she couldn’t love.



Three times, I convinced her to put down her knife;

“You can do this, Capulet, don’t you take your own life!”

I spoke with the friar, and he had not a clue,

Till I formed a plan and a mysterious brew.



I sent a letter to Romeo, warning him of her sleep,

And so Juliet drank into slumber most deep.

Two days went past, then I felt my heart stop-

My letter had been returned, and Romeo’s address dropped.



I tripped a few times as I sprinted towards her grave,

All the while howling out Romeo’s name.

I leapt across ditches, I dashed around trees,

And I fount Montague, fallen to his knees.



“She is pure beauty, even in her death,”

Said Romeo as he took his last breath.

I lunged, and I screamed until my throat bled,

But bleed as I might, Romeo was now dead.



Juliet yawned, and it turned into a cry,

As the sight of his body burned into her eyes.

I stood up, hands shaking, and reached out to my friend,

But I knew this was a wound my soft words couldn’t mend.



“Juliet, don’t,” I pleaded weakly.

She shook her head sadly, said “I’m sorry, Rosaline.”

I held her small frame, and I felt her depart,

As she drove her own blade into her broken heart.



Montagues and Capulets sat together that day,

And they mourned their children and regretted their hate.

I stood up, though it pained me, and they looked distressed

At Juliet’s blood that soaked through my dress.



“This is your fault!” I yelled hoarsely at the lords.

“You ran your own children through with your swords!

If you are so noble, ordained from above,

How could you destroy their lives and their love!?”



“Don’t you dare let their sacrifices end in vain!

They were my friends, and they died so you’d change!

I hope you make peace, because your bigotry

Took Romeo and Juliet away from me!”



So it was, that the families have since lived in harmony,

But that is something that now hardly matters to me.

A rose by any name would still smell as sweet,

But if “Montague” was different…





This would not be a tragedy…

it’s impossible to know the future
it’s impossible to change the past

in short,
what you have
in this very
moment

nothing more
nothing less

take that to heart

it’s all you’ve got

Inside my mind I found a place
Of solitude and saving grace
And here I sing and laugh and dance
And burst the bonds of circumstance
That tie me to those old worn ways
A time of doubt much different days
One book sits proud upon a shelf
Its all I need to teach myself
Each page so eager to disperse
The secrets of my universe
My desperate need to truly learn
How fundamental laws discern  
To help me pass this place I've reached
I'm now the preacher and the preached
The time lost searching is time well spent
Its like hide and seek enlightenment
chasing tails to catch a blast
That I am chasing forward to the past
Awareness that I'm looking back
Has put me on the proper track
Allowing me to rearrange
The things I thought too late to change
And repay debts of gratitude
With promises of solitude
Of peace and warmth and fuzzy love
Protected by a lone white dove
A fearless place where none will fall
My greatest wish for one and all

Tell me when forever stopped any why the love just ended
The weary eyes and quivering lips that we should have transcended
The voice that constantly told me my love is for you alone
That voice that echoes through the halls of my now empty home

Tell me when uncondtionally suddenly was cut short
And how every single snide remark and every stabbing retort
Would change the love we solemnly swore we had into a lie
Which made the screaming of a broken heart our nightly lullabies

Tell me when the great roaring ocean became bone dry
When the words stopped coming from my lips and instead in tears I'd cry
When nothing was left to be said except that we knew of each other no more
Leaving the only sound the closing of hope's door

Tell me you still love me and you will tell no truths
Furthering my discomfort and taking away memoirs that soothe
For I am lost in a world where promises go untouched
In which a forever submerged in love seems not to mean too much

from afar it seems beautiful, precious even. things taking shape,
rearranging, molding into something new. on the inside,
when it's me, or him, or both of us, it's like destruction.
destruction of the beauty and affection.
seeing, but from a distance. reaching, unable to grasp.
we are two people. two living, breathing human beings
walking the same ground as everyone else, and we're changing.
i've admitted, but not accepted, this fact. for the better seems
out of question. we're distant, unaware, and i can feel it hurt deep within me.
i can feel it hurt when i look in his eyes as he quickly looks away,
and again when i see him hesitant, but not quite worried.
terrified- i'm terrified of what's to come next,
which part of my heart will shatter as soon as i realize
this isn't something we can save.

everything is blurred, unrecognizable and my head starts to spin.
friends are changing, thoughts are changing, family is changing,
the world is changing. out of everything becoming new again,
he was the one exception, the one thing that stayed the same,
kept me sane, kept me grounded.

with all of this, it seems there are two possible solutions,
both in which are equally impossible and unreachable:
pause everything, rewind, fast forward, whatever it takes to wipe the slate clean,
to become clear again,
or
hold him firmly, hands on his shoulders, give him a good shake,
maybe knock this urge to reconstruct out of his veins and
onto the floor where i could stomp it, **** it, make it gone for good.
none of which will happen. i will continue to live in question,
watching my back, and at every turn i'll brace for impact.

change. hardly beautiful when everything in clear view is distorted.

Time stretches into this long month
with its longer days moving toward
a forbidding future and
disconcerting present.
Unsure what news will break
now the truce of Christmas
is been, has gone, when only
remnants of that incarnation
remain in the continuing tale
of escape, genocide, return,
and those revelations
at the temple, allowing
Simeon to depart in peace
according to thy word.

This is how it is,
with no going back
to the kitchen candlelight,
to the fragrant scents
of food and friendship.
Whilst yesterday . . .
in a city street
a young woman begged
the cost of a sleeping bag,
hers stolen, and she,
hardly dressed for a cold day,
was gracious in her thanks
for my loose change given
when I had the means:
to see to her needs
in order to survive;
to see to her needs
in order to be human.

How do I escape
when the negativity
nooses circumstance around my neck
and ties it to my every insecurity.
It’s like my surroundings feed
off of what I hate the most-
I am constantly barraged
by resentment for the people I should love
and I read too much into things
that I should let go.
But how do I change what
i’ve spent most of my life
chained to?

The walls that surround me
are more like a cage
where negativity and sorrow
collide, crash and then burn
holes in my way of thinking.

Positivity is hard to come by
when every step you take
is like a drive-by shooting
you somehow planned
for the sole intent
of making your life hang
on the edge of a chair
waiting for the death row pardon.

Death wishes don’t come often for most-
but in the dead of the night
when I am alone and weeping
over the spilt milk I have slipped
and broke my backbone on,
I realize they come too often for me.

When the night whispers softly
into your subconscious
reminding you of all the things
you wish you didn’t remember,
curl up with your favorite pillow
grasp your bulletproof vest
of a good book into your
sin stained fingertips
and remember,
the night never wins,
because eventually
it must turn into dawn.

I Know What’s Going On ,
Why You Trynna Hide It,,
Let Your Heart Bleed,
Sing As You Fight It,
Your Finding Your Purpose,
It’s You That You Searching,
Just Breathe,
I’m Doing The Same,
If You Know What I Mean,
The Feelings Beens Absent,
I’m Asking What Happing,,
Whipping Up Blood,
With All Theese Napkins,
Shattered Glass Under The Rug,
Regrets Adding Up,
From **** That’s Enough,
To **** What The ****,
I Know I Can’t Take What I Say Back,
Sincere When I Say That,
Will The Tesla Change Your Mind,
In Time Will You Change Inside,
I Want You To Stay The Night,
Arrive By Surprise,
Look Deep In These Eyes,
It Makes You Wanna Cry,
Identify The Reason Why,
Either Can I,
My Pain Is Beautiful And Real Tears,
Where Will I Be In A Few Years,
Not Here
In A Foriend Land,
Floriengn, Ocean Side Like Florida And,
I Can Afford A Home And All Theese Plans,
Be My Lady, Ill Be Ya Man,
But I Ain’t Begin You To Stay,
I Hope You Under Stand, Okay
I’m Sighned Now,
Driving Through La Just To See A Place With a Sign Out,
Drop 10k Just to Stay
I Don’t Wanna Buy Now,
i’m Soul Searching,
My Soul Hurting,
I’m So Certain,
Romance With Closed Curtins,
And The Lights Low,
Blow Out Out The Candle As I Stroke All Night Yo,
Abbracabdra Where The Lights Go,
Breathe Please If It’s Deep, Ima Pipe Slow,
Seizure Like Eyes Roll,
Portal To Another Realm,
I Promise That Your Safe Okay Just Let Your Mind Melt,

This Time It Is Not Is My Demons,
I Don’t Expect Anyting,
Don’t Need A Reason,
Healing Is Why I Am Breathing,
Love Is Like Seasons,
It Dies,
Then Arives When You Need It,
I’m Here To Enlighten Through Dreaming,
I’m Singing, Don’t Go,
If You Do, Don’t Ever Loose Hope,
All My Eggs Cracked No Joke,
My Love Gone Hatch Fa Sho,
That’s Something i Know,
I Will Not Give My opinion On Something I Don’t,
Grey Skys Must Love My Eyes And The Front Of My Door,
I’m Feeling I’m So Sore,
I’m Really For Sure,
It’s You I Adore,
If I Lost That,
I Aint Gone Get Me Off Track,
You May Never See All That I Gave,
I Know It Goes Both Ways,
If Your Really Walking Away,
I Hope Your Okay,
Cos I Know Im Not,
And I Hope You Don’t Feel The Same,
Either I Never Knew The real You,
Or you Changed,
Either Way, Words Aint Gone Help My Case,
I Can’t Reach Your Heart, Regardless What i Say,
Good Bye For Ever Today , I’m Selling Away


All I Can Change Is My Self,
Perception Is Everything,
Ive Been Through Hell,
Stories To Tell,
My Pain It Bleeds,
I Be Singing It Well,
Came Along Way From Grave Yards And Pale,
My Love Runs Deeper Than Every Body I Helped,
When I Was Up,
I Was Picking You Up,
Taking You Places,
Bringing You Home To ****,
And Cuddle Up,
All You Ever Did Was Lie,
**** What The ****,
You Cant Reply, You Are To Much,
You Took My Advice, And Told Me I ****,
Afraid To Realize What You Do,
I Know What’s Been Up,
My Soul Had Enough, It’s Been  Hell Of A Ride,
I’m Slicing Ties,
With These Genuine Eyes Good Bye And Good Luck

i Won’t Be Here The The Storm Comes,

ill Be in My Own In The Storm Front,

I Was Your Saving Grace, Your Burned A Bridge That Cannot Be Replaced,

Theres Nothing You Can Say Now About How You Made A Change. How I Was Right, And all Your Pain,

I’m To Far Gone To See Your Face,

This Wasn’t A Mistake,

I Sacrificed Everything Heavenly For A Fallen Angel That’s Been Misplaced,

You Chose Your Ways,

I Got A Tree House And A Loft In Cave,

And You Will never Be Invited To Stay,

There Aint To Many Feathers Left Teathered On These Shreaded Wings

I Bleed Opera You Ought Remember Me,

Rainy Day Memories

This is one of those times in your life when you think you're better, then you're reminded of why you cared and the tears pour down. Just when I start to feel like I'm worth something, something happens that leaves me alone again. So I'm back to feeling like the world would be better off without me. And maybe it would be, but personally, I hope you don't feel the same, because you are my world and I never want this world to go away. Sometimes you have to say good-bye, and those two words always leave me dying inside. The tears fall from my eyes, some for pain, some for longing, some for happiness. But it's just a small moment in time, later you meet someone new, or someone becomes new to you, an old friend brought back again. A new love, or love renewed. Both can fix the wounds inflicted by life. So push back you hair and say a small prayer, that you'll make it till things start getting better. Because when things change you'll see things differently. When things change you'll either take it in stride, or it will knock you off of your feet. The change comes from you, will you get back up and turn things around? Or will you let it keep you down? Don't lay on the ground, don't let this change make you give up. So look up at that clear blue sky, count to 10 and try again. Because it's not the end when things change

You're the Apple of my eye, the laces of my shoes, the breath of calm after an anxiety attack or heavy cry. You're the hand on my leg telling me I'm safe, the magnet which magnetised the needle in my homemade compass. You're the net of a dreamcatcher, the final **** after a long and exhausting hunt. You're the sensation of being warm and naked after a cold and wet day out in the snow, you're the report card with straight A's. You're there toe beans of a cute cat and the contagious laughter of a newborn too naive to realize that everyone in the room is only laughing because they keep laughing harder, the positive feedback loop exhausted by cheeks too tired to smile and a diaphragm too used to move.

The sensation of being tucked in, but not too tight. The phenomenon of waking up in your bed because you passed out on the couch and your dad carried you in.

You're the dream where you fall in love and everything is perfect and great, but when you wake up you carry over that charm into your day to day life and everything starts to go your way. You're the fortune cookie with a fortune of the numbers 3,4,8,17,20,26,38,48,70 and the phrase saying "your long held-onto grievances will vanish soon, you will find your peace."

You are the learning, growing pupil of the Master of the Way. You are the concept of fairness and rightfulness, of non-ownership and laissez-faire government and home. You are the beacon, cooking a warm meal at the stove, so tuned into her world. You are the day dream, where the ordinary melts and the extraordinary takes over our surroundings and enchants our creativity while boosting and fanning that little flame in our hearts that keeps us going.

You are the first kiss of morning, with morning breath so stagnant from an unexpected ****** release at 4 am and an explosion of positive neurotransmitters, the development of trust in each other's arms. You are the attempt to synchronize heartbeats in a very tight spooning position. You paint the image of our energies moving in complex shapes before entering the other, circling inside and maturing, then entering back into the other. The ouroboros of emotion and trust and love.

You're what I see when I close my eyes, and you're what I want to see when I open them. You're the concept of someone I can truly let be. The independent, growing college girl with her whole life adventure ahead of her.

You're the angel on my shoulder which speaks to me words of reason and progress and helps me ignore this rotten goblin on the other shoulder. You're the voice I hear say "I really like them, honestly," when I see tracers in my vision.

You're a lighthouse in my mind. One safe thought, one place I can escape to for safety. But that's not really you, it's just my concept of you and my memories. But sometimes just that thought is enough to fuel it, because I'll be thinking of you more than I actually see you and I need to find the best way to deal with both.

I don't want to put you on some unreasonable pedestal and I don't think I have. I only truly mean like a third of what I said about the poetic "you are"s, because it would be unreasonably romantic to truly believe most of that. But I believe it in spirit and that's what matters.

You're the voice whispering me to sleep, and the reason I don't always have to wear ear plugs any more. You're the person I imagine running their fingers up my arms and into my hair when I watch ASMR vidoes. You trigger my ASMR and almost no one before you has been so successful in doing so. My body responds to you naturally in burst and quivers of euphoria and satisfaction, the curiousity of how you can pleasure and tingle me and how I can please you.

Rubbing your back and shoulders, popping your back ever so slightly, exploring the surface of your skin in every area. I want to learn and map your topography and dimensions and watch those change gradually over time as you mature into this yogi goddess with such a brain it's astounding.

You inspire me. You're such a hard worker and you're so much further than your circumstances could have put you. You're so strong Zo. Even if you feel like you're breaking sometimes, you're handling the pressure better than I ever could.

I'm grateful for my time with you, but I'm even more grateful for the peace you've helped bring to my tumultuous mind.

I hope you're getting just the most wonderful sleep. Dreaming of forgotten kindoms, songs never heard, places and euphorias never felt or synchronized with. You're a good person.

"it's nasty," she says,
the words dripping
dancing acidic ballerinas
tumbling from her lips
pirouetting between
decayed yellowed molars
and exhaled
like tasty, toxic, treacherous
nicotine.

nasty? how?

nasty like the way it tastes
when you roll my flaws
around like a toothpick
and pick me apart like a corpse
on the side of the road?

nasty like shoe polish medicine
slipping down your esophagus
just to ease the guilt for a night,
dragging you away to a restless
rem cycle where your troubles
melt away?

nasty like your childhood and the
scars on your shrunken skin,
like the memories that smell distinctly
of top shelf gin;
like the echoes of the places
you used to haunt, the denial of
what happened there hollowed out
and gaunt?

nasty like denying yourself freedom
in the most euphoric way
because you never learned how to ask,
command, what would please you
if only you had stayed?

nasty like the marriage
you stay in every day,
a dead end since you met,
fated to be a prison cell to whom
you're confined?

or nasty like the way
you can't look at yourself
in the mirror
without finding something that
you wish you could change?

Say we fix the people,
Make them honest and good,
Say we brush them rust to gold,
Into something we choose,

Say we dress them nicely,
Make them compassionate and kind,
Say they all became heroes we want them to be,
With a phenomenal strength in mind,

Say we abolish hate,
And we all throw love around,
Say we end all conflicts,
Every one puts their weapons to the ground,

Say we change this world,
Into something we'd want it to be,
Say its all possible,
And it starts with you and me,

Go, dumb-born book,
Tell her that sang me once that song of Lawes:
Hadst thou but song
As thou hast subjects known,
Then were there cause in thee that should condone
Even my faults that heavy upon me lie,
And build her glories their longevity.

Tell her that sheds
Such treasure in the air,
Recking naught else but that her graces give
Life to the moment,
I would bid them live
As roses might, in magic amber laid,
Red overwrought with orange and all made
One substance and one color
Braving time.

Tell her that goes
With song upon her lips
But sings not out the song, nor knows
The maker of it, some other mouth
May be as fair as hers,
Might, in new ages, gain her worshippers,
When our two dusts with Waller’s shall be laid,
Siftings on siftings in oblivion,
Till change hath broken down
All things save beauty alone.

Sit and wait for the world to crumble
Lie in waiting for the sky to fall

I hate anticipation
And I hate not knowing
When it will all be gone.

"I think I'm gone next week."
And darkness is cast upon my day
I need you
I love you
Please don't leave me

This might be the last time I get to be close to you
Might be the last time I see your true face
Before they shower you in lies
And take your true face away.

You think you're the only one who has to worry,
you're the only one
who'll have to pay

But I know for a fact
That they'll give you a mask
And you'll change.

I don't wan to have to go through this again
Look into a friend's eyes
and see a stranger
Look into their heart
and not understand its beating.

I want you to stay.

As you change into the black top
you prefer to wear out,
I sneak a glance
to check the status
of the skinny scars
inflicted by the blade you keep
tucked under your mattress,
Old wounds mingle with new
across your gaunt olive skin,
a permanent morse code
telling the story of a pyro-botanist
who can't let herself grow.

I glance back up
at your now-empty smile
and ponder the irony
of a middle name like Mirth.

Wishing on a star
Throwing change in a fountain
I never saw a *** of gold at the end of the rainbow
Chasing dreams, even though it seems impossible, at times
I might have some luck for a change, or do you think it strange?

a girl is waving
through the
window those
much too big
windows of
the library

clanging with
vending machine
change and the
humming that
is tucked into
some well lit
corner

she is waving
oh her way to
forget her head
but she is almost
almost there

she is waving at me
through the window
and i wave back
on an impulse

left staring at the
window wondering
what it was
that made her wave

The clock ticks away
as another sleepless night
breaks way for another
wasted day.

The ***** ran out hours ago.
I was left to wait out the clock
during that empty part of
the night when the
liquor stores close and
the street walking girls
walk their
final walk of the night.

Too wired to sleep,
mind too full of
memories to do
anything else but try
to **** them all away.
Sat on the toilet and
fixed myself a shot.
***** for breakfast,
two beers I'll call my lunch.
Dinner I'll spend 
with her
in a restaurant,
picking at my
plate while
tossing back the
wine.
Again disappointing
that girl who
still remembers
that guy I used to be.

This day I'll spend like
all the rest,
battling to be me.
The past recedes and
my need to stay numb
grows more with every
deed remembered.

These days don't change,
but most of the faces do.
There aren't too many who will
stick around and watch you
wait on death.

There are those who
remember you
and try there best to
guide you back.
If they could
only hear
the symphony
of screams
within my head.
Or the faces that
flash,dead enemy's
and dead friends.

If just a few of them
could experience
the empty in which I
live in.
Then maybe
they'd bring me a
bottle.
Christen my
voyage like a ******
ship to sea.

Wish me
well  then leave me be
and hold true to those
memories of  
the Who
I used to be..

Why was I so looking forward to this?
At least before, the smoke filled the emptiness.
There's no big change in being sober
Except for the fact that my frown won't turn over.
Now it seems only loneliness stayed
I can remember things better
    but who wants that anyway?
At least before I wanted to live.
I had something to live for,
    some comfort to get.
I would rather just forget my dreams
If it meant that I wouldn't always want
To rip at my seams
Till they bleed and they bleed
And I bleed no more.

Cause who really gives a **** anyway?

I think my lips are chapped because I've kissed so many boys who don't love me.
You ask me 'what do you taste like?' I don't think its very **** to say regret and sadness.
You say 'when can I taste you' My taste has been passed around so many tongues there is nothing left for you.

He tells me 'I'm here for you, I'll always be here for you' as he kisses my neck. The next week the bite mark on my belly is fading and I can barely remember the colour of your eyes.

My sister says 'you will change your mind' she says, 'all woman want to be mothers'.
I have stumbled in at 4am with the taste of strangers in my throat to see my mother sitting upright waiting for me, I think of the night I spent crying on my mothers lap in a&e;, certain I couldn't make it through the day, the way my brother scowls at my mother, my sister telling her that 'you could've done more, you could've walked away.' I. Dont. Want. Children.

My mum tells me she is old, she is tired. She desperately needs a man to hold doors open for her and carry her shopping. I am trying to remember that needing someone does not mean you are weak.

My grandmother gave me waist beads to encourage fertility. She says 'god gave you those hips to birth children'. Ive never told her that i lost my faith in god the year i lost my virginity.  And if there is a god, i don't want his ******* fertility. I want to break these beads and let drugs engulf me to prove my grandmothers blind faith wrong.
I laugh and pray before our meal and kiss her forehead, 'god bless'.

He tells me 'i know youre *****, its natural'. I laugh and play along for his delight. 'women are just like toys, television, easy puzzles'. I think of my father beating my mother, my fathers face all the men ive walked past in the street. My mothers face is my own.

'if you don't want boys to touch you you shouldn't wear tight clothes'. I think of all the boys who have run their fingers over my back when i was dressed in clothes from neck to ankle. I wonder if god is a sexist man. I wonder if there's any men who aren't implicitly sexist.

He tells me, 'I'll spend hours on you, I'll make you believe in god again'. There is nothing I can do but laugh. I ask him, 'does your mother know you speak to girls like this?'
He ***** his teeth, 'do you always have to be so difficult?'  
I kiss him but I think of his mother, foreign and lonely, 2 sons and no husband.

He says 'you need a real man' I think of all the other boys who have told me that before leaving me.
He wants to know why I'm in hospital so much, 'how are we going love each other when you can't tell me what's wrong with you' I don't want to tell him that I've cut my arms so badly I can see god in my blood, and sometimes the voice in my head screams so loud I black out. I kiss his chest. He doesn't ask again. I resent him for that.

I've been ignoring my fathers phone calls for two weeks because his voice sounds like absence and I don't want to hear another 'I love you' from a man who doesn't know my secrets.

I find him in stillness.
When the world's silent
When I finally find a moment
To stop
And pause everything.

The ache in my chest
Returning
When I stumble
On memories
On music
On the realization
That I miss him.

I beg my heart
Plead reasoning
Denouncing how it feels.
We don't belong together
We can't pull stars from the sky
We can't change fate.
He didn't want me
For better or for worse.
Why after all this time,
Does it still hurt?

I don't want to love him
Anymore...

The baby is born to the death walls
that line the cellar. The cellar is dark
and musty like the inside of a mouth
that has seen every forest in the world
that needs to be seen. There is animal
screaming and cheeks wailing and blood
smashed. There is the floor: cold as bath
water or lungs or teeth or healing. She
wanted a midwife. The midwife looks
ashes of change, her hands shake  
like a pale fire. Her hands shouldn’t
be shaking, I want to say please, leave
the shaking hands to us, we are only
a professional family, but you are really
a professional, your brain is snowed with
palms that knead proper parturition. But
my mouth is tight with breath and ash.

What is this thing,
This change in me,
What is this feeling,
That is happening to me?
This possessing of my spirit.
This seemingly lack of control,
That was not always so.

That a concerto slow turn,
Played and heard,
Renders me weak in the knees,
A sweet moment of human joy,
Or actual real grief,
Even viewed on a movie screen
Can tug at my heart so.

So too, a child’s sweet song,
Though sung off key.
A blazing sunset,
Orange and red,
A thrilling thing to behold.
Nature always a motivator,
All of these and more,
Pluck cords of my emotions,
Like the strings of a harp,
So easily reduce me to tears.
Not body shaking sobs mind you,
Just a slow gentle stream,
Nothing my sleeve can't deal with.  

"Men don’t cry",
"Sensitivity is only for women",
Or so I have always been told.
Well it’s taken me a long time,
But I have concluded this bias,
Is a load of unadulterated *******!
‘Cause as it turns out,
I actually enjoy it.
And see no reason I shouldn't.

Not to mention,
It keeps my tear ducts open,
And free flowing.
In touch as I am with my feelings.