But she's exposed herself.
Flesh and bone protruding out the protective bubble.
She's only just gone and dragged herself to the margins of society.
Removed from the warmth of the gooey womb she supresses a lingering shiver.
Now she resides in a ***** dimension. Present, not quite faded yet.
Now the perfectly grown princess has self-inflicted chips on her shoulders.
Addicted to self-flagulation she tries to regress back home to her former alter.
Beyond. Reach.
A stone bleeding with pleasure weighs down the remains of her birth right.

"How do i look ?",was the whisper she made,
"Like a ******* *****!",was the attention he paid,
But his words didn't penetrate,she loved him that much,
So she changed her clothes, and she coverd herself up,
Token wifey,perfect partner,loving mate,
She glared at her reflection,wishing she could hate,
rosebud lips, icy eyes,sculpted legs and cheekbones,
He knows full well,if she's noticed, she'll leave home,
So he supresses her beauty,ensuring it with black and blue,
Those little pills you take, won't always see you through!,
Wake the hell up my girl,before you slowly disappear,
Put on your perfume and your pretty dress, get the heel out of here,
Lift your head, shed the baggage, walk off that bruised flesh,
Claw your way to the surface, where you're free to start afresh.
Make a move for gods sake, or you'll shrivel and die,
Shake the duckling feathers off, spread your wings, and, just, fly !


                                           (c) eileenmcgreevy@ymail.com 2010

i lay on my couch
taking in all the words we exchanged the evening previous
feeling them swirl around my insides until i come to a definitive feeling

god, oh god, do i want so feverishly
to take my right hand
softly place it upon your cheek, my thumb resting on bone
and replicate with the left,
thereby setting the stage for the next act.

our eyes locked as they shut
heads tilting oh so carefully to the right
and as our noses interlock
a moment of hesitation before -

wet. gentle. but firm.
passionate.
an explosion inside my heart
as all of what will occur past present and future
fades away for one brief moment
wherein we become singular.

but i shall not ask.
my will of patience and kindness
supresses the desire within
until the day comes when i can get my wish.
to see our lips locked tight
a dance of love in our hearts.

The hooks and shears
in this garden
snarl everything
then cut it away

its smooth stones'
quietness supresses
the quiescent shudder
to cold morning rain

preferring hot showers
and fuzzy softness
I grow aware
of brambles and coffee

and what snags
presence
from sticky soil
and constant sanding