Soggy, forgotten rotten eggs. Sink side. Gobbledy gnus cruising, fast acting cheetah be cheetah for the eggs are scare and the Time is new. The few are no longer fastened tightly to these hatchlings, the weather is near and all the tides are complicated. I could stand around in my underwear, but there isn't a single night song or nightengale that would hear me. There's a thud on my head and a knock on the door, I can't sing my best, or try to impress thee. All of these letters un rest to the sound of your voice, even in calfskin a vegetarian can begin to have trouble breathing.

To the cables that untie thlemselves to a broom in a paradise, Pacific, galore. Forgot to. Invested. Contained poorl and drunks stowed in the holograms of hand-me-down prisms, here comes the infectuous lonely ol' lamb. This is the ewe song that sings you to sleep, keeps the sweat in your underwear. Where there is hunger there are poor but my gold chants forward to this Armageddon's sway.

If it means it in Greek than it does in cyrillic, if it's toxin you have rotted your bell. Inside my pink, neon briefs is a tale of insanity, where I had tried to squeeze out every ounce of relief that commenced while I was asleep.

There was only ever one of us that ran with the turmoil that romance does. Terminal two, Arizona-flu, carried through the ORD concourse I heard a saxophone tune. Final approach, a yawn. I'm home drinking ***** at 9:00am with my PJs on.

Wanna be a part of my pjs
  There can be an escapade
Later on can be a propensitiy
   I can have a deportment
   Because  my pjs are in a **** form
   You go obstreperous on me
   I've been wearing them all day
   For you
          Just kidding there really only soft blue pants
           With a white v-neck t shirt
          My best pj for you is for u to be in ur boxers
           My fav   turn on
        Purloin my mouth and heart while ur @ it

I ate my PB&J; in my PJs
Laying in my bed
The sandwich was good
I enjoyed it
Like most people would
Except I then wrote a poem about it
Like no one ever should

Missing my class
Im way too high
Smoking my grass, watching my gpa fly

Snacking on Lays
Watching a cartoon
Wednesday in PJs, a quarter past noon.

No One Knew His Name
when the woman called nine eleven she said
there is a guy sitting on the stoop
he's dead..
the nine eleven woman, martha, said
how do you know he
s dead we get plenty of calls like tha
t

she said, the woman, said
he
s got flies in his eyes

martha said we are gonna
be right there!

2.two condoms and a crucifix

when the coroner people cam
e he was still sitting on the stoop
still dead his breath no longer
straining the winter air
then they took pix and measured things
rigor mortis already had set in
and when they took th e pix
they showed two condoms and a crucifix
falling out of his pocket into the light of day

the woman who found him so still
she said it is strange
to see such disparate things spilling out of his pocket
he
was still dead and i believe he
s kept his state of being stubborn as he is/was
he remains forevermore stilled

we talked about those three things
two concepts really
two condoms and a crucifix
and we could not figure out which
he loved the most
because we never heard him speak of
anything but god crack *** amphetamine
trinity cooh, ya know?

3. Discovery Indeed

he came from wolf lake mn
population 31
when he left it went down to 25
ten thousand lakes
he could not imagine living there
anymore
but did he know at the end of the trail
what was he looking for?
two condoms and a xfix
my god he said
although he did not ever believe in such
extravagance
just before he went to sleep
perhaps to be still forever more
my god he said
as the soporific hit blessed
whatever was left of his short life
my god he said
although he was agnostic or so he said
my god
he could not have believed had he not heard them words
himself
as he grabbed the condoms and kissed the xfix
or maybe it was the other way around.

4. No ****
sitting on his ***** chair
he put his hands between his legs
reached for the ****
and squeezed:
yellowish stuff strained out between his fingers.

his grandma slapped him, hard

5. Things Looking Up

he lay down on the floor
to look up the neighbor's dress
he saw a pair of legs descend
from pink *******

then his grandma picked him up
slapped him, hard.

6. Harbinger

winter flew in harsh in minnesota,
battered houses, pine trees,
the wide landscape into submission
let the wind run whistling, whipping
subservient snow, whitewhirlwinding
down desolate fields and lanes

one day it got so cold
spit froze before it hit the ground
it made a little noise midair

7. Cold Dogs

one time he saw some fifteen dead dogs
piled by the side of a road
frozen like the rest of the landscape

even as an adult he wondered
what THAT had been about

8. *** Is Child's Play

in the first grade he fell in love with miss renee
the teacher who let him put his head down on her legs
and petted his head while he glowed glowed glowed
he learned to love school and read read read
so ms renee would say Joe, read!
and he would

one time he dreamed he had *** with miss renee
*** was tying something between her legs
a knot of love in her ******

so how did he know about such things
at five? he always wondered about that.

9. Revelation

his fishing pole was gone!
he looked and looked while spring time
raised giant mosquitos that buzzed and buzzed
about his head

he never found his fishing pole
he thought that maybe when you die
and go to heaven
god showed you in a sort of movie
what had happened so you'd nod yer head and say
yeh, i'd never would have guessed grandma

gave it away.

10. Alone At Last

say to the darkness this
emptiness covers all this
suffusing light scrapes away
some pain some excruciating i am
lucid preamble to my nevermores
in plural congruent universes
coexisting rapt in its own
say this is a dream a vertigo
a swirling metaphor for then/now/and again
can days still mean something new
today everyone left
everyone left


staring out the window at six years old
he saw woods slowly fade into the night
he thought they sank
into an oblivious fog

why didn't i go to the neighbors' house

11. Death Becomes The Fisherman

the lakes were all around
they said let's go see the drowned man
so they went to the shore
a boat with two men rowing
approached
you could see a hand and an arm sticking out
from somebody lying on the floor
someone said "hey, he
s waving"
close to the shore
the wind brought the overpowering
stink of death
that shocked him because he'
d not thought of "drowned" as "dead"

they brought the body out
to the shore
covered it waiting for the coroner to show up

mother and sister cried nearby
neither could approach the stinking corpse

he then realized that no matter what
you can't kiss a rotting corpse.

12. Rubber Match

the first time he met a ******
there was no formal intro
he just found it in his father'
s drawer
filled it with water
dumped it on the neighbor
s'
yard

later on he could hear them fight

13.Prurient Discovery

when he was 13 he made love to her
who was 16
and all he could think about
was how gross it was and wet

until he came

then his opinion suddenly
changed

for the

better

14. Death Is

his grandmother was sick
in the MN winter cold home
she coughed and coughed
so she
put kerosene on her back
and chest
he saw she got blisters
he did not want to help
clean them up
so he hid
until she was quiet for a couple of days

he went to see her she was dead
so he stayed drunk for a week or so
until he could not stand the stink no more

15. The Beginning of the End

he went to a foster home
there were 5 other teenagers there
the first night
he went to bed
someone put a pillow on his head
while hands turned him over
held him down
pulled his pjs down
5 guys ***** him then and there

the next day he ran away

16. The End of the Beginning

they brought him back 23 times
on the 24 he met one of the kids
by the lake
stuck a knife under the guys
ribcage on the right side

all the guy did was sigh
and slide slowly down

he pushed the guy into the water
somehow it took weeks to find the body
by then nobody could tell he'd been stabbed

but none of the kids ever held him down
again

17. COOH

alcohol alcohol
its sweet old name tells me all
i need to know how spinning
the world distances itself
in a warm blood red haze
and only a swollen torpor remains
alcohol alcohol
its sweet old name tells me all
i need to know
and not to know

18. Not Late, Just Timely

time 'sss a stone a sash a thunderbolt up high
a rudder a list a lisp a restless meandering
time 'sss a spire a fish still below the waves
a constraint a push a shove a deal a nothing
time 'ssss a look a lock a rail
a sunrise a fall a crack a vial
time 'sss a sock a pen a handgun
a radiant breeze a solid solid hand
two elbows and one mouth

he took his time and time took him
step by step he climbed the stairs of his cognizance
such as it was just this
no hope

i say no hope but no despair either
the world sometimes it's just the way it is
he understood that but what to make
of this breathing hearing seeing tasting feeling smelling
thinking self
he knew not
and in not knowing
he passed the time that isss not
what you think it isss
time 'sss not even a ticking tocking clock
just let it be he said to himself
time 'sss not me
yet time isss me

and he took another ****


19. Luger

his father came back to town one day
the war had been over for a few years then
they told him where he could find his father and he went
and watched his father, dressed in combat rags,
as he counted the fingers of his shooting hand

they exchanged glances and he left

got drunk and did not hear or see his father ever again.

20. Life As A Long One Night Stand

the girls are many the girls are new
every day they seems to look at you
and you melt and then you are gone
in another trip with another stranger
in your bed do not say much
cause *** is just another drug

just cheaper and easier to get
than smack

21. Epitaph

he learned a song and a little dance
at the emergency rooms where he got
the prescription pain killers man he could
lie and act and pretend so much
he knew they'
d really have to give him stuff
cause that'
s the way that things work
in big city hospitals
he re-membered a doc who smiled at him
saying man you'll be dead soon
although you think you are fooling me
the only fool in this room is you

he laughed cause he could not agree more
put that in my tombstone he said
the doc said no, you are gonna do it all by yourself

22. Lost Weekend
-.- -.- -.- -.- -.- -.- -.- -.-
-.- -.- -.- -.-
-.- -.- -.- -.- -.- -.- -.- -.-
-.- -.- -.- -.-

23. Dashes and Spaces
---- -- -- - - --- --
-- - -- -- -- - - -- - -- -- -
--- - - - - - -- - -- - - - --- - -
-- - - -- -- -- -- ---- - - --

24. Two Condoms

at the end of the road
the road the empty road
the sinuous complex road
the road the heavy road
where lust and love entwine
who knows the end or the beginning
who knows alpha or omega
who the what who the where who even
the hidden sentient how
the nothingness the emptiness
of come and come and come
just emptiness of not becoming
he heard himself saying screaming
at the end of something like a bumpy ride
she was who knows who but she was
you know the hole the whole the mankind whole
the all embracing whole the whole hole
the destination origin
the one and all
he said here i belong elementary
i exist because of this
he pounded pounded in his anguish
of becoming one and whole
he howled his grief intermittent
as pulse wave of heart
the heat of his despair
the only drug that it's living protein
he felt his way
and then was gone from virile crisis
to distant remote self acquiring its orthodoxy of despair
because as he put it once you cannot ever **** yourself
square the circle as it were
so he accepted two trojans
at the bar when a guy in the adjacent ****** said
these are the best and yes
we gotta protect ourselves
and left the couple of rubbers
by the sink
and he would have washed his hands
had he known how
but instead put them products in his pocket
a premonition of some kind of future bliss
tugging the sleeve of his presentiment

carving already a vast innocent tomorrow
while he walked out

he truly did not care

25. Crucifix

at the end of the road the empty road, the road full of lies, deceit and a hunger so great it overwhelmed all else, at the end, the terminus, the appointed hour, at the end of the alpha, the omega, the in-between, the road sinuous road that led down the miriad steps to the steps on a stoop in the city of new york, at the end of a long concatenation of minutes, each ethereal, insubstantial, a construct, a vapid dream or nightmare indeed he sat down one last time with his burden of hours to dream one last warm oblivious cozy, embracing shroud, sweet balm to assuage the freezing claws of grief. in the seedy bar last
night he met a blonde who said, your eyes remind me of a long ago boyfriend, he said well, he musta been one hell of a guy, she said indeed, he died in iraq, suicide, ******* he said that is not right, she said we are all at war, daily intimate war, i think, who said we met the enemy and it's us? he did not know but understood, he said although denial is more than a river in egypt, ha ha, but they both got it since they both craved the same intoxication, the same zig-zag and feint, she said the first time i got drunk i was eleven, that was my first time for *** too, he said the first time i got drunk i too was eleven, the night had fallen i was alone in wisconsin among the wolves of winter howling their relentless wind outside, i found a bottle of the hard stuff, not beer like everybody drank i could not stand the taste it was too bitter, but gin, and i drank it convulsed at first by the shock, then not, just drinking a few more gulps and believed i had found the greatest gift on earth, the greatest warmest kindest confidant, she said you talk funny, but i understand what you are talking about, i know the allure but my hangovers, wow, he said no, i never got one, but. here is the but. i knew a limit, i was never blind blind drunk until much later in new york, she said we each have our cross to bear and laughed and dontcha just wanna do a line now ha ha, and it went on like that for quite a while. when she was leaving she said, you wanna see something funny, yeah he said, she brought out a crucifix and it was indeed jesus, his mouth open, imploring relief from his harsh dad, and he had a gold tooth, blue eyes and dreads, he laughed and said that's quite contemporary and she said wha? you don't think he looked like that? but really who knows what the truth was, he said or is, so they both lifted one in memory of the dear departed one who had caused so much trouble here on earth, but, she said, he did not mean it, here keep it and he did. later on he found his fix it was extra good ****, too good in fact, and who knows, when he sat there with flies in his eyes, his life a dream, invention, make believe, whether any of the episodes were true at all, sob stories to assuage the beast of craving within, get his hand in your pocket and whether, as he sank below the surface of his tortured bliss, he saw his true light at long last.

sweetie, what’s a matter
you’re afraid
of the lightning & thunder

sweetie, of course
you can sleep with daddy
crawl into bed
snuggle up, next to me
i’ll protect, keep you safe

sweetie, you are naked
where are your PJs
what, you want to cuddle
spoon, skin to skin
daddy’s arms tight around you

sweetie, go to sleep
daddy is tired
what, you can’t sleep
you want daddy to pet you
till you fall asleep

sweetie, stop wiggling
daddy can’t sleep
or worst, will get an *******
bad girl, see what happened

sweetie, settle down
what, you are *****
need daddy inside you

sweetie, my little angel
kiss daddy
as i make love to you

As a child
I would sometimes urinate in my sleep.
The warm wetness would turn cold, and wake me.
Ashamed, I’d take off my Pjs and crawl under the comfort of my Sister covers.
She was studying to be a teacher and taking courses in child psychology
About the time I started “bedwetting”.
Recognizing my unnecessary guilt, she told me not to be upset.
“If that ever happens,  just spoon with me and we’ll take care of it in the morning.”
I did know what that meant.
Mother would get so mad.
Of course I had no idea why I would "wet the bed",
but she did.
Our Parents would often argue into the night.
And although I did not understand any of it,
like a dog,
I felt the tension.  
I sensed the discourse in their voices.
It was the same discourse they used to scold me.
Therefore, I thought they were angry at me.
The silence was worse though.
Even though their biting tone would cease, I could still feel the smoldering anger.
The air was thick with it.
My Sister was a young woman, soon to be married and out of that hell.
She was the Mother I never had.
She had a huge black RCA transistor radio and use to put it next to my bed,
tuned to a Rock and Roll station.  
I never knew why she did that until many years later.
It drowned out our Parents fighting.
The music became my solace.
“I like bread and butter, I like toast and jam”
And soon,
I stopped urinating in my sleep.
Of course the by-product of her intervention was
that I have been a professional musician and entertainer all of my life.
Music has been and always will be my solace.
It blocks out the arguing in the world.

*thanks Sis

Winter Vacation was coming
The kids were all set
They were thinking of Christmas
And the gifts they would get

But, Millie sat waiting
Thinking of nothing but snow
Watching the class clock
That was moving so slow


They did arts and crafts
Made cute cards for their folks
Sang old Christmas songs
And told old Christmas jokes

But Millie, our Millie
Was miles away
Thinking of Michigan snow
In which she'd soon play

She packed up her things
Then the bell filled the air
She waved to the teacher
And burst out of her chair

Faster than reindeer
She was gone from the school
Off to get packed
For a vacation so cool

She ran all the way home
She had sweat on her face
Left her books at the door
And grabbed her pink case

Millie was ready
With one thing on her mind
She was off to see snow
And leave the sunshine behind

She'd packed and unpacked
Twice every night
Now she was sure
That her bag was packed right

Winter vacation
In the north in the snow
She'd be there in hours
Just one night to go

She tossed and she tumbled
But she woke right at five
She showered and dressed
She felt so alive

They loaded the car
And they left in a rush
Millie was set
And gave her hair a quick brush

They got to the airport
At nine twenty two
They checked her small bag
Which was nearly brand new

They went to the gate
They met a woman in tan
He said "Hello, there Millie"
"I'm your steward...names Anne"

"Before we go on"
"There's someone else you should meet"
"He's a pilot, our Captain"
"And his name is Pete"

She kissed Mom goodbye
And she kissed her dad too
Anne took her aboard
To sit in seat number two

Millie was nervous
But, excited as well
She told Anne her feelings
Anne said "I won't tell"

The plane taxied out
Left the ground with a roar
Millie's tummy, it rumbled
Like it had never before

Anne came and sat
In the seat by her side
She said "Look over there"
"Those are clouds right outside"

Millie and Anne
Talked all the way there
Of the Christmas to come
They made quite a pair

The Captain announced
They were all set to land
When the plane hit the ground
Millie grabbed Anne's right hand

The big door then opened
They got off of the plane
At the end of the ramp
She saw her cousin, named Jane

Her Grandparents met her
Thanked Anne, said good bye
Anne said "Have a Good Christmas"
Millie said "I'll certainly try"

Jane and her brother
Had come for Christmas as well
With her Grandparents and cousins
Christmas was sure to be swell

They went to pick up her luggage
And then go out to the truck
Her bag came out first
It was her Christmas luck

The first thing she saw
As she held Grandpa's hand
Was no snow on the ground
This was not what she'd planned

Her parents had told her
About the Michigan snow
About snowmen, and snowballs
And the wind, how it'd blow

She kept quiet, said nothing
There was no snow to be seen
As she looked out the window
The grass was still green

Maybe, just maybe
I'm early she thought
It'll snow here tomorrow
Today is too hot

She played with her cousins
Called her folks about four
Rode bikes that her Grandpa
Bought them all at the store

Nothing was different
It was just like at home
No snow blowing white
Nothing fluffy like foam

She went to bed early
It had been a long day
She kissed her grandparents goodnight
And then hit the hay

She dreamed of the winters
Of the snow on the ground
She dreamed about snowmen
And climbing up a snow mound

The next morning she woke
Ran and opened the drape
Wrapped it round her neck
And looked outside, with her cape

Green as could be
For as far as she looked
There was no snow here
Millie felt she'd been rooked

She sat quiet at breakfast
Made barely a sound
Then she asked Grandma
"Why's there no snow on the ground?

"My big Christmas wish"
"Was to snow, snow...for real"
"It's just like at home"
"Grandma, what's the big deal?"

"We've had some strange weather"
"It's been warm every day"
"They just do not know"
"How long it will stay"

"I'm sorry dear Milie"
"This is just how it's been"
"I'm afraid that this Christmas"
"Is one that is green"

Millie, sat silent
Went outside then to play
There was no snow coming
There'd be no snow today

Depressed as she was
She had fun, best she could
Riding bikes around town
It was fun, but not good

With one day till Christmas
She called up her Dad
In the call she then told him
Of how she felt sad

She loved both her cousins
And her grandparents too
But, she just couldn't go
And do what she wanted to do

She'd come up to the north
To have some fun with the snow
She wanted to leave
But, she'd not let them know

They had dinner at six
Millie went up to bed
She was asleep in a moment
Christmas dreams in her head

At seven oh three
She woke up, looked outside
And she stood at the window
With her eyes open wide

The front lawn was covered
There was snow all around
She woke up her cousins
Down the stairs they did bound

They opened the door
To a yard full of white
Christmas had come
Bringing snow in the night

Out on the road
She says other kids too
All in their pjs
And some with no shoes

They were all throwing snowballs
Making angels as well
this was what she had wanted
Christmas was gonna be swell

During the night
While the kids were asleep
Out to the arena
Grandpa did creep

He'd called in some favours
Got the snow from the rink
Then they brought it out here
"Christmas magic" they'll think

The kids can't have Christmas
With no snow to be seen
It just isn't Christmas
With a yard that is green

Phone calls were made
To some other rinks too
And the ski hill as well
Knew what they must do

A parade of dump tucks
And machines that both blew
Came to help Grandpa Joe
Make Millie's Christmas wish true

It lasted four hours
Then it melted away
But, for Millie, our Millie
It was her best Christmas day

Wishing is magic
And dreams, they are too
So, believe just like Millie
And make your Christmas wish true

a coffee shop, not the kind they usually write about-
not the dark furtiveness of hope and cigarettes
no one in here is broken- at least- no one except for me
at least- we all think that, already- about ourselves-
but this is no places for dickinsons, all I can see in front of me
is two girls who look like they could be in love
in some other way, in some other universe
and all I see to my right is two girls older and wiser than those ahead
who're a little more broken, and a little more untrusting
and in the booth, there, girls who have marked their computers
their bodies, too, with their identities, splattered across
the outside world because they don't have it in their heart
who is that? staring out the window, not even on her phone
is she waiting for someone? who is it? is she thinking about ***?
Is she thinking about love? I am. Is she sad? she has her hand over
her face, I still don't know why I love you so much-
my music throbs in my ears, this is the holy grail of places
free wifi and people who are exactly like me
I look different than I am, do they, too? who are you?
why don't we tell each other? if we don't, we might as well give up
it's done, game over. we're through.

The innocence of a sunrise,
a dance in the middle of the street,
putting on pjs and getting some early morning fries,
a simple love, a love thats new,
watching the sunrise, and staring at the sky while swinging and tasting the blue,
hands getting sweaty,
and nights are too long,
there is no such thing as a sad song,
and if there is, its to remind you what you have left behind,
clouded mind,
full of future times
that always seem so golden
while the past seems to fade away,
a butterfly in the tummy,
its forcing its way through,
a simple love, a love that's new.

It's long past,
and the love wasnt the last,
it was cute and fun,
that made me like everything a little bit better and brighter, including the sun,
it was easy and made sense,
but now we just look over the fence,
at other loves that have made things work,
we may grab hands and say were certain,
but as we around us begins to fall the curtain,
separating our yards,
throwing into the air all 52 cards,
grabbing and screaming at the air,
I do not dare, try and break the steel curtain,
and through the holes I can see her smile,
who knew it would be here and gone so fast,
looking back on the past,
it was a love that couldnt last.

Now every time I see,
lovers saying "I'll never leave",
I get a butterfly forced in my tummy,
it pulls oot its money,
and buys a beer,
flapping around drunk and insecure,
making me stumble and run,
and listen as the song is sung,
making the new songs sound blue,
I miss that simple love,
a love that's new.

It's scary how your mind
can play tricks on you.
It's not until 1 am,
after the day has passed
and I have showered
and slipped into my pjs
and snuggled up into my bed,
that I start to feel alone.
I toss and turn and
imagine your arms around me
stroking my back
and you whispering
in my ear how you'd
rather be nowhere but here.
This is what keeps me up
at night but I know you sleep
sound without a single
thought of me.
It's scary how your mind
can play tricks on you.
Just when I think
I'm finally moving on,
the stillness of my
room at night reminds me
just how alone I am.

To Salinas we had come,
Over a hundred miles from home,
The smell of turned earth and crops in the fields.
To the wedding of my cousin two days hence,
She was a lovely girl and I was very fond of her.
She was Mom’s oldest brothers’ only daughter.
All Mom’s family had come to attend the event.

Sleeping at an Uncles house,
Loud angry voices awakened us.
At only age seven, still a sound sleeper,
The voices actually frightened me awake,
Like a nightmare dream gone wrong.

Cursed shouting and some pushing,
Adults in night dress, robes and slippers.
The brothers and Dad still fully dressed.
In the middle of all that turmoil was my father,
Surrounded by Mom’s three larger brothers.
Dad was not a drinker,
But the Uncles had taken him out,
And drinking was not something new to them.  
One of them was nearly a professional at it.
Some years later he even died of it's effects.
The brothers were not normally mean spirited,
Yet always very protective of their little sister.
Perhaps they thought that,
No man, not even my Father,
Was good enough for their only sister.
A mistaken belief, that lasted for years.

A silly dispute had ensued,
My father’s pride was hurt,
A punch or two was thrown,
Landing where I do not know.  
Now, at two in the morning,
My Dad was ready to go home,
Nothing would stop him doing so.
Had any one tried further,
Someone was bound to get hurt.

My Mother intervened,
The car was hastily loaded,
As Dad sat behind the wheel.

My older brother and I still in our PJs,
Huddled in the back seat of the car,
Our eyes big and scared appearing,
For these were not normal events in our lives,
Before that night or since.

Mom desiring to be calm,
Attempting to reason with her husband,
A man having had too much to drink and
Suffering a bad case of wounded manly pride.
They were not two people used to conflict,
With each other, or anyone else.

The car was going far too fast,
This back in the days before seatbelts,
The fences and power poles were,
Speeding by in a blur of indistinct shapes,
Acted to further the unreality of that night,
Deepening my childish fright.

Suddenly the car swerved to the left,
And Mother screamed something,
The left front wheel struck an immovable object,
Our Chevy bounced into the air,
And my head smacked the ceiling.
The Rear wheel then hit and mounted,
The same hard object and once again,
For a moment I and my brother were in the air.

Our car was brought to a sudden stop half on,
Half off a concrete Traffic Lane Divider,
With three of us in that car, all crying.

I shall never forget the look
On my Father’s face,
As he peered into the back seat,
A truly remarkable expression,
Fear mixed with utter disgrace,
He stared at us for a moment,
Then turned his head forward.

In the rear view mirror,
I could see his eyes,
I watched them, as they turned to liquid.

My mother checked her sons quickly,
And then slid over to my Dad,
She whispered something,
I could not hear.
They sat there silent for a while,
My Father’s head lowered,
My Mom’s arm around his shoulder.

After a few minutes,
Dad opened his door and got out.
Mom leaned over the seat and comforted us.
Then got behind the wheel,
She almost never drove,
But backed the car off the concrete island,
Drove the three of us back to her Brother’s home.
My Dad swallowed up by the blackness of the night.

A few day later we returned to our home,
My Father was there waiting for us.
For the second and only other time in his life,
I saw my Father weep,
As on his knees he held us all tight to him,
He pleaded remorse and for our forgiveness.

I never saw my Father intoxicated again.
And of course we all forgave him.
I had learned something new that day,
My Father was not truly made of steel.  
As no mortal man ever is.

This is the tale of the gentleman who wore a trilby hat .
He spoke  Uhum, to himself ,
and muttered things under his breath .
His dress was smart ,
but casual ,
and so the ladies would agree ,
‘What a strange man ,
yet he looks so dapper ,
I wish he would speak to me ‘

Now some of the larger girls grinned and smirked as he went on his merry way ,
he doffed his hat ,
and that was that as he passed them on his way .

He walked home ,
Key in the door ,
‘ hi dear I’m home once more ‘
to no answer came ,
it never did ,
he took off his hat ,
Placed it on a hook on the wall ,
took off his coat ,
and placed it on a coat rack ,
took off his shoes ,
changed into his pjs and slippers ,
and sat down .



His grammar phone played the laughing police man every hour  of every day

It just wouldn’t go away .
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha !
stuck in the groove
Ha ha ha ha ha ha !

Come, little children
Follow the fairy
To a world of fantasy

Leave on your PJs
Sneak out the window
Leave your parents behind

No more rules
No more yelling
Not here, not ever

She really is beautiful
The fairy from the window
Who beckons them away

She reminds the children of their mothers
Safe and kind
And always trustworthy

So they follow her
The pretty fairy
To the land she promises

With her voice so soft
She leads them away
Forever and always

And in the morning
When the mothers come to wake
Their sleeping treasures

They scream
They weep
They curse their God

Held in her arms
The mother hugs her dead son
Who followed the fairy to fairyland

she says they are nice pyjamas

comforting while

although she prefers air to circulate her lower parts

the winter nights require warmer wear



i agreed that pjs are the thing

and avoided talking about any

parts

at all



bought a few things at 40p

and left

for the hairdressers

There's this cat
that moans and moans
like it's going to hell.

It starts up
crying around 4 a.m.,
this ugly, pronounced
violent and deeply intonated
yowl.

It wakes me and Heather up,
it just comes into my dreams
and pulls me so hard
that I stumble back into this world
against this wall of sound
so ugly
that I'm tip-toeing insanity.

I want go out there
and strangle the ******* thing,
I want to find it where it yowls
and silence it.

heather says I'm the meanest person in the world
for wanting to strangle an animal
to
peices.

But the thing I hate is when an animal
lets the whole world
know
that
it's dying,
it won't let anybody get any sleep
until everybody in the vicinity
is standing around it
in pjs, boxers, doo rags, scarves
slippers,
gowns,
that pink thing Heather
got from
Walmart
watching the light of life being reduced
until this dying thing
begins burning
precious oxygen,
oxygen that we all need,
and it just becomes a waste
and a nuisance.

It’s Sunday morning and we’re in the new, exciting, daylight savings time.
Peter and I are sitting next to each other on the big, red, corduroy couch in my suite’s common room.

All of my roommates are gone so we’re free to relax in our PJs. We’re quietly heads-down on our devices. When, suddenly, I realized, as I do every 10 minutes or so, that it’s Spring Break!

I side-eyed Peter who was reading something. Probably some interstellar statistical report whose roots were calculated in base 7. I slowly, so as not to divulge that anything was happening, lowered my iPad and set it aside.

Then I slowly, very slowly, begin invading his space - he doesn’t notice at first but I lean on him gradually harder and heavier. He looked at me, confused, but now I’m crawling onto his lap - rolling onto my back. He moves his laptop - holding it up and away with one hand.

“EXCUSE me,” I say, “I beg your pardon, couldn’t be helped.” I repeat about three times as I roll a complete 360° in his lap with glacial, disruptive slowness - making sure to elbow him gently in places and cover his face with hair.

As I climb off him, I jump up and start singing and dancing to this song I made up (with maximum arm flail):

K k k k King kong song
I’m sing the king kong song
I’m dancing to the king kong song
Feel free to sing along.

I point at him and sing, “I’m talking to YOU!”

K k k k King kong song
You’re listening to the king kong song
Feel free to sing along
To the K k k King kong song!

I stop, striking a pose like someone on a Broadway stage waiting for applause.

“YOU,” he says, are a complete NUT.” But he’s smiling, broadly, as I jump onto his lap and begin smothering him with kisses.

‘Can I launch the 20 Qs now?’
You laugh and you tell me that you love it
That I make you laugh and you add ‘Yes. Fire away.’
I wanted to keep you laughing,
To keep you happy
Now that I discovered a bit of Why me?
‘Are you on ****?’
You laughed. Harder, this time.
And I noticed that it’s because I love
Seeing you laugh—that head thrown back,
Loud laughter spilling from your mouth—
That it’s enough for me to want to
Keep you happy.
‘Maybe,’ you grin.
I stiffen, indignant. ‘You could get us killed, lunatic!’
(But then, if you do,
At least I’ll die with you)
‘Well, I wouldn’t blame that on the ****, love.
I’ll blame your PJs for that, so distracting.’
Playful slaps on the arm,
Half-feeling sorry for myself and my
Finn and Jake pyjamas
Playful pouts and rubs on the arm.
‘So where are we going?’
You tell me that you haven’t figured that out yet
And that if I had something in mind, you’d be open
‘My mind is wandering off to the land of milkshakes.’
‘My mind would love to wander off to the land of milkshakes with your mind.’
I laugh and tell you that that reminds me of Cummings
And together, we chorus
‘I like my body when it is with your body.’
Until we reached the diner with a CLOSED sign hanging
‘Should we grab a crow bar and break in?’
Your laugh vibrated through the cold, silent air
Before grabbing my wrist and pulling me back to the car.
(I had suppressed the thought:
Please don’t let go ever.
To the dark depths of my mind)
‘How about 24-hour pizza?’
‘Had me at pizza.’ I grin.
‘I know.’
And I know, too.
I fell for you.

Mommy, nothing about the way you raised me was normal
It hurts me to think out of everyone you may have hurt me the worst
Because you allowed me to think it was normal
You put me in ****** situations at an extremely young age
Momma, I was four
This was before Dad died
He was on top of you and I was on top of him
If it didn’t happen then why do I remember the PJs i was wearing?
Why do I remember how sweaty he was and how the tv was going?
I remember it was late and my sister was sleeping in her room
Why should I have to explain this to you?
I know you remember
I always thought it was normal how you let me look and touch your body
I was six or seven, I was curious about what I was always exposed to
It made me uncomfortable that you would always talk about how you loved my *******
I told you this
I will most likely never tell
Because I am scared of the men you exposed me to
But I am more scared of you
I thought that you’d never hurt me
But nothing about the way I was raised was normal

My local pharmacy
was exceptionally busy today
Worriedly,I scan the pharmacy line
For any signs of people;
coughing, sick, in any way

I don’t have a mask I’m not protected
My mind is freaking me out
after all those people came
For medication
of one kind or another

People are dying
Have they been around
Someone with the flu
Nursing them, contagious

Nervously I wait.
They call my name
No information,silently
The pharmacist grabs an arm,
sticks the needle in my arm
gives me the shot
Pushes the medicine in
Hands me a paper
Consequently Telling me , as he walks away
“It takes ten days before Your protected”
I sit there swimming with questions
He is gone

As I walk from the store
Several sensations occur immediately
My arm hurts instantly
At the shot sight
Although the needle was tiny
throbbing pain works it’s way
Down my whole arm

By the time I start the car
My head is pounding
Within the first block
My head is pounding so much
It hurts behind my eyes

Anxiety of the unknown symptoms  sets in
I have alway been very careful
Getting behind the wheel of a car
On any medication
“I can make it home”
I chant as I drive
“I’m close, almost there”

My body feels strange
I’m home in 7 minutes
I’m safe breath, sigh relax

My chest feels like someone’s sitting on it
It’s hard to breathe
My oxygen saturation level
drops into the mid 80s

I make sure my husband knows
Where the paperwork is
As I explain to him all my symptoms
Reactions to the flu shot

I feel euphoric
nauseous consumesme, holding it in
Vomiting is dangerous for me taking
time releases medications
I take something for the stomach
Pulling on my pjs And climbing into bed
Making dinner, not an option

I wake up 4 hours later
My symptoms have leveled out
The chest still tight breathing a bit less labored
However,All other symptoms
Have become an aching in all my joints
I mange to eat leftovers
my stomach feels better

My head still in a fog
The next day is a struggle
To get moving
I realize how strong
this strain of the flu is

I get the flu shot every year
And have never experienced
These reactions

I know everyone is different
But take caution when getting the flu shot
Go home immediately afterwards
Preferably have someone with you

Spent three days in jail, waiting for computer error to clear.
Automated customer service has me on hold, for what seems like years.
Debit card at the grocery store doesnt want to scan,
had to put back half of the groceries, not enough cash on hand.
Now they got these games,that let you bowl or fish,
all done in PJs, indoors.
Seems like no one wants to put on bug juice or bait a hook
around here any more.
Got Teenagers playing Combat games, up to level four.
Bet they would crap their pants if they had to go out of an aircraft door.
Drop their **** in middle of the night,
where bullets fly both ways
and if you  make it but your buddy dont,
then your left with the blame.
Laugh at me  and my simple ways, really dont give a ****,
wonder where we all will be when they start scanning our hands?
.........Your call is important to us , your approx wait time is......

The Baby Boomer Generation
was between 1946–1964.
Currently today between
the ages of 57 and 75.
So that would make most
of us still alive and kicking

No, two people experience,
their generation the same.
It depends upon your age
going through the experience
Facilitates our gauge.

These is what I remember along my way.
Details, I leave out the baby boomers will know what I’m talking about.
One of 8 kids I’ve seen many layers
These recollections are from many players
This memory train stops ,Ends 1979

My generation as a child;
Buying our clothes from the
Sears and Roebuck catalog
Weekend chores morning till night
Sunday church, youth fellowship group
A treat to play baseball in the street
First set of wheels a Banana Bike
with high handlebars, Ten Speed bike
We road for miles but never lost our way.
Made and played with Paper, Airplanes,
Lincoln Logs, Click Clacks and Jack’s
We dug holes to make a Mini Golf Course

I sold fruit from our many trees For lunch
money cafeteria food 4 fruits NO sac lunch,
We were resourceful, earning our own way.

The boys had a Paper Rout
The girls Babysitters. I bought my clothes, by the age of 12 with babysitting money.
And happy to doit.!NO more sister’s things
The embarrassment of hand me downs

We covered our School Books with
Brown paper, trash bags, creative Kids used
comics from the newspaper cool!
We walk to school and back, never alone

We dial a rotary phone plugged in the wall.
Dial zero for operator to connect your call
Yellow page phonebook to find numbers.
chores and homework done, before fun!
Boys collected Baseball Cards MadeCrafts

Junior High; The quarterly Shop classes
Boys Only,
Auto Shop, Wood Shop,
Electronic Shop and Plastic Shop
The boys sold what they made
for a pretty penny(expensive price)$$

Drivers Ed
In the classroom and in the Car
The schools had four Cars;
4 kids and the Instructor

Home economics
Girls Only;
learn to Sew, A-line Skirt, Gym Bags
with Embroidered Names, one freestyle project. Anything from Turning jeans into a Jean skirts. Imagination creation,
Original design Homemade crafted gifts

Cooking Class had 7 mini Kitchens
Nutritional well-balanced meals, but my favorite Cake Baking tips and techniques.
We had a lemonade Stand in the summer
Sold Fresh lemons off your fruit trees.
Baked cookies, cupcakes, and cakes as well.

Every meal was made from scratch
Feeding 10 meant more than one batch.
We ate Dinner as a Family every night
Us kids, brothers and sisters were tight
We went to Drive-in, Movies in our PJs
We got our information from Encyclopedias
We waited for the Milkman, and the Helm’s 
Whistle Blow, Diaper Services at the door.
We listened toTransistor Radio on the floor.

My Generation as a Teenager
Bellbottoms and Crop Tops” peace signs”
mini skirts, go-go boots, moccasins beehive
Hair with Flowers everywhere
Bought my First Vinyl Record

Rationing Gasoline;, odd, and even days
By The last digit of your license plate
In 1993 and again in 1997. Gas Ran Out!

Changing the TV channel with the ****
First black and white TV followed by color
FineTune the antenna, rabbit ears for clarity.
We piled in the wood panel station wagon

A Phone Booth on every corner $.10 a call.
The simplicity of it all
Until The Moral pendulum Shifted Society
The shooting of John F. Kennedy
I knows where I was the day it happened
The shooting of Martin Luther King
These two Events shaped our Generation.

The Vietnam war, Kent State Univ. shooting
Our Generation Before
Cell Phones, CDs, ATM, machines, Internet, Pagers, Cassettes Tapes Eight Track tapes
in the car. The swear jar

We barter food, sold eggs Goods,& Serves
Wore Galoshes to school on muddy roads

My generation as an Adult
Neighbors Voted in our garage
Their loving façade was an allusion Mirage  
Never answer “Who did you Vote for”
Airing ***** laundry in public, not smart
VOTING couples screaming, fighting in the street taught me.NEVER talk about;
Religion and Politics. Two Deadly Battles
The price, too High, to lose, your happy life

Gypsies gave daisies At the Airport
Make Love Not War, Peace bohemian style
California rock ‘n’ roll bands in the city
And to the sand, Artistry in the air
Music flourished,Bands played everywhere

The Doors, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd,
The Beatles, , Crosby, stills, Nash, Young
Simon and Garfunkel every day fair
Woodstock a whole other scene
To describe it, you had to be there

Drugs,;mushrooms, ***, psychedelics, acid
Roxy, & Rainbow Club where the weirdos went or Chinese tour buses,
filled with people dressed in 60s wear
Men wore a camera around their neck, Hawaiian shirt, black Horn rimmed glasses, Ladies poodle skirts with Peddicoats and white button down blouses and sweaters
in the 1979. I kid you not. strange people!
I wanted to ask what movie they saw that made them think this was California style?

Car Races on Van Nuys Blvd.
Parking with your boyfriend
Teen center held under 21 Dances.
The San Fernando Valley(Valley Girls)
Really said “for sure”. “Totally awesome” “whatever” “ not even” “ As If”

Orange Grove and walnut trees as far as the eye can see. The city Tarzana was named after Tarzan. South of the Boulevard 4 miles from Michael Jackson’s house. Modest home. Difference as night and day

Curiously, I never thought we were poor
We were rich in love, and that was more than enough. Help a friend in need
Because it’s the right thing to do.

people were people, Just getting along
Decent folks Kind and Caring,Sharing
God-fearing Christians, Moral Values
Live and let Live. The American Way

I love my jimjam
Jabama jabamers  
You calls ‘em PJs
Some call ‘em pajamas

My jimjams are old
And all busted up
There’s a hole in the sleeve
Where my elbow snuck

But they still fit well
Real snug as can be
Though threads from my cuffs
Do dip in my tea

But the buttons still hold
And the pocket still carries
They keeps me warm at night
When the winter tarries

So I pop on my jimjams
‘For I hop into bed
And I curl up real tight
Once my prayers are said

I love my jimjam
Jabama jabamers
You calls ‘em PJs
Some call ‘em pajamas

‘It’s four-thirty,’ I say
And I think we both sensed
The dreaded end is nigh
‘It’s four-thirty-one,’you point out
‘Would it be weird to admit that—‘
I stopped. I wanted to admit
A lot of things without sounding weird
‘You don’t want this night to end?
No. Because me, neither.’
I took the chance to glance at you
And smile.
You took the chance to glance off the road
And smile.
‘So where to, next?’
You gave me a knowing grin.
‘You’ll see.’
I puffed out a breath.
‘Come on, wouldn’t you like to be surprised?’
‘I’d rather anticipate.’
‘Oh but where’s the fun in that?’
I just grinned. Because
I want to believe
That you’re right
And I want to believe
That you actually did
Plan something
For me tonight.
‘Eye spy?’ I offered.
You tell me that you spy
Something with light—
Lamppost.
You tell me that you spy
Something that goes on—
Road.
As you go on—
Tree, dashboard, yellow lines, my PJs;
I laugh as I secretly spy on
How the light hits your eyes
As you drive.
(I wonder if you
Could even guess how
Beautiful it is.)

It started with “Hey!”
I was shy and reserved.
You were boisterous and outgoing.
We became instant friends.
You balanced me on life’s balance scale.
Our lives became in synced.

It continued with “I love you, as a friend”
Daily calls ending at 3 am.
Movie nights in our ugliest Pjs.
I became your relationship therapist
And you became my life counselor.
My heart became entangled with yours.

It grew tricky with “I love you”
Your presence made me giddy.
Your smile made my inners swoon.
Hearing about your relationships
Filled me with envy.
A battle arose between my mind and heart.

It fell apart with “I need you”
You put me down easily.
Showing me my place in your life.
I could be everything but not the “one”.
You would never feel the same,
But we could remain best friends.

It ended with “…… “
Our friendship isn’t able to bounce back.
I cry daily knowing I can’t have your love.
I can love you better than any!
Maybe you’ll realize when I’m gone
That with my heart; is where yours belong.

Saturday night football game,
surrounded by a crowd of cheering fans,
classmates I'm supposed to call my friends,
but honestly, I'd much rather be home in my PJs,
watching corny movies with my grandma.

"Where are you going?" they ask.
Like they even care.
They don't.

I decide to leave,
but just as I'm walking out,
there you are.

The boy with the brown eyes and the brown hair,
but everything else about him bright and shining like the sun,
with every color that blossoms from the innermost workings
of my aching heart,
The boy that makes weeks feel like days
and hours feel like seconds,
The boy I never thought I'd stand a chance with,
until now.

What do I do?
Do I pretend your eyes didn't just catch mine?
Do I leave, regardless of the fact
that this could be the very opportunity
I've been waiting for?
Do I stay,
unsure if I'd even get up the nerve
to talk to you?

But before I can think about this any longer,
before I can talk myself out of saying the two letters
I should've never said,
"Hi" slips out from underneath my tongue
and wraps itself around my neck
like a rope that, if pulled only the slightest bit tighter,
would've had the potential to strangle every thought in my mind
to silence.

But to my surprise, you smile.
Oh, how precious that smile was.
I haven't seen it in a while,
you know.

So we talk and we laugh,
and you ask me if I'd like to sit,
go somewhere we can be alone.

I lead.
You sit down next to me,
your leg brushing up against mine.

A rusty old picnic table
becomes a spot I'd never forget,
a soon-to-be landmark behind all the bleachers and fake friends,
all the screaming, all the cheering, of people who'll never know
what it's like to feel the way I did that night.

A little boy runs out in front of us,
playing with a small car his mom must've let him bring,
his curly blonde hair bouncing up and down with every step.

You tell me about that time you fell off your bike,
went tumbling down and got right back up
to ride all the way back home.
How your dad called and you answered,
forgetting to mention the severity of what had just happened.
The way your brother looked at you when you stumbled through the front door,
all bruised and beaten up like you'd just been in a bad fight.
The way you walked upstairs,
how you just laughed.

I tell you about anything I can think of,
anything that you didn't already know.
To be honest, I don't even remember what I said.
I was so nervous I didn't even know words
were coming out of my mouth
until you laughed that laugh,
the same one as when you fell off your bike.

Soon, silence falls upon us,
but not the kind that thickens the air
and makes it hard to breathe.
No, the "this is so amazing I'm at a loss for words"
kind of silence.
The same silence everyone needs to experience in their lives.

And suddenly,
in the midst of our perfect quiet,
you do something you'd never be able to take back,
something that meant a lot more to me
than it ever would to you:
you put your arm around me.

I remember feeling so special.
I remember finally accepting the fact
that you could feel the same about me
as I always had for you.

I remember feeling like nothing in the world could hurt me,
nothing could bring me down,
not as long as your arm stayed right there,
around mine.

But nothing stays perfect forever.
Quiet moments fade,
the clock runs out,
players shake hands,
crowds go home.

And before you know it,
Saturday nights fade into Sunday mornings.
And Sunday mornings feel like let-downs
after Saturday nights like those.

I am sick but I don't want to be aggressive
about my treatment. I don't want to step
outside into the cold, I don't want to
to go anywhere today....just stay
inside bundled up in my soft
pajamas and with a cup of
tea and listen to some
music in this warm
place and dream
about where
and  when
I will be
well.
:)
I only want to stay
inside and rest.
just let it be
okay for
me to
rest
my
<3.
I
hope
you are
feeling better
than me today and
that you are well rested...
but if you are not than I think
it best you remain inside with a cup
of tea all snuggled in your PJs too my friend
life is sometimes a delicate balance between you and me
and it is of the utmost importance to support and care for one another.
and in caring for another we are free from vanity, as long as we have cared
for our own souls too and not forgotten to deal with the thing that are
bothering us. It is important when considering the other
guy that we are not putting our own thoughts
and expectations upon that person but
simply allow them to be separate
while we pour up the tea
of consideration and
respect the line,
since it is the  
boundaries
holding
every
one
of
us
accountable to
each other and
where we will be able to discern
if the cup is actually half empty of half full.

Under a blanket of deadlines,
of exams proctored by a machine,
eye movements consistent
with a learner’s lie,
I found solace tonight.

I decided not to give a ****.

My computer remained unopened,
a calendar a forgotten application,
not a thought given
to the glare of a grade book.

My bed was warm,
the cloth of sheets and PJs
wrapping around my body like a hug,
hiding me from the ghosts,
shed from the television screen.
Ghosts that wiped my tears
after the hours of repeated drama.

While my sheets slept,
I opened a page.
No, not a page full of fact,
the monotonous monster
which is studying,
but a separate world.

I ceased to exist,
become one with a novel,
falling deeper,
deeper.

I won’t even remind myself
that tomorrow, I’ll have to work.

get high think of u
get high ask u to come over in ur pjs
get high want u
get high sleep away dreams of u
get high wanna talk to u on facebook chat even tho i hate it
get high & say ur name
get high think of u

I don't even want to bleed
I just need to know I'm alive
I'm freezing but there's no AC
The air is so ******* still
My stomach hurts so bad
Acid is burning down my cheeks
I couldn't dance around in my pjs if I wanted to.

The cats pajamas
Had nothing on us
We were carrots and peas
Better than the bees knees
Bonnie and Clyde
Felt like going down a slide
The passion burned
And then one day it turned
The distance was small
But our love came to a stall
I hurt you so bad
And made both of us sad

I put pants on over my PJs
Fill up my flask
With *****
And put a hat on over my three day ***** hair
Because I don't want to be home when anyone else gets back to the apartment
I started texting people I haven't spoken to in years
Because I miss them and because I miss me
Back when I knew them better
I'm starting to show
And I know that the worst thing about showing is when people start to notice
And their eyes change
And they are suddenly so careful around you that you could cry
So I have to get out before they get back
I write only to keep myself from myself
As If I could transfer me to a page
I only clean half the apartment
I leave things unfinished
Because I'm scared to
Put everything away
As if I were putting
My spoons in a grave

Im very proudly the best friend of a survivor.
Believe me when I met her I thought "who is this pompous Richy rich *****"
Then we met again when things had changed a little. When there were bigger things than what brand you wore.
When there was small feet growing inside of us and a fire burning in our soul.
This woman has changed me. She has reminded me what mental strength looks like. What it looks like to be "just a normal teen" when at home you are shattered and drowning. She listened to my "I have read baby center all night and I know it all now" rants and held me when I didn't think I could continue. We have gone months without talking to each other and called one another at 3am. She survived ****** assualt at a young age, she survived multiple abusive men, she survived her own inner demons and continues to do so everyday. As for me...Well I am her best friend. I am the one who is constantly checking in with her and adjusting myself to her needs. Why? Because I love her and I need her to be okay too. I am the one who sees redbull and breakfast sausage and smiles because I know her morning routine. I am the girl doubled over laughing with no makeup on in my ugliest PJs because she so innocently looked up from her phone and had no idea what I had just said. But watching her try to confidently tell me she heard me was the best thing I had seen all week. I am here for her. I am here for me. I am here for a lifelong friendship that means sometimes I don't always agree with her and sometimes we will get mad. But she is worth it. The girl I first met, the woman she has become, the woman she will find herself to be....That survivor....She's my best friend.

Moving on feels like getting out of bed earlier than usual.
Moving on feels like going back inside that coffee shop for the first time.
It's dancing in your pjs while getting ready for school again.
It's eating vanilla flavored ice cream even though that's what he tasted like.
It's hanging the pictures back on the wall.
It's saying his name without getting knots in your stomach.
It's seeing the beauty in seasons changing.
It's not feeling guilty for smiling at that guy in your physics class.
It's going back to church.
It's looking in the mirror and not seeing regret.
It's recognizing that each breath is another reminder that you made it.
You made it.
*You made it through