do you know where the wild things go?

they hide inside

playing with fire

ensuring that every mistake they make

        leaves

                      a

                  ­            mark.

Her Understanding:

Hands that caress
melt my stress
are silky smooth
in a rhythmic groove
that's hard to regret
and impossible to forget.

--

His Reality:

My hands caress
what fills me with stress
her skin is smooth
but that doesn't soothe
all my regret
he's just impossible to forget.

It's strange
Not black, not white
Just gray

Not good, not bad
Different
In a special way

It's all alone
No where to go
No where to stay
It's like me
In a hidden way

       -Beth M.

time to peal off the skin of sadness,


it's spring