Month: January 2017

Cold and gripping.
They restrained me,
They held me back.
They dug into my wrists,
They pained my ankles.
They kept me locked away.
Chains.
Horrible, awful chains.
They guard me day and night.
Strong and sturdy,
Cold and gripping.

 

An old leather cover,
Yellow pages.
Crinkles & wrinkles,
Every time I turn the page.
Words jump out.
Pictures pop
I see it.
Playing over in my mind.
I turn the last page.
The cover.
The end.

 

Let’s have some fun!
But there isn’t anything fun to do.
Swimming is fun.
We can make dresses that look like the moon and sun.
We can look at bugs.What kind of bugs?
Ladybugs and butterflies too.
We can wear one shoe. We can eat pizza for breakfast. We can meet Taylor Swift. We can go to a petting zoo. It’s raining!
We can jump around in puddles. We can walk our dog. We can color with markers too.
I don’t really care as long as I’m with you!.

 

Life is lived
Life is given
Life is also gotten
Sometimes even forgotten
You live life
You give live
You get life
Even forget life
Hey look here comes one
Other life right now!

 

A sapphire sky falling on a rippling mirror
Reflecting the hues of a golden jewels falling
The dazzling blaze of the golden fire.
Held in the diamond tear of the emerald leaf.
In this moment, the moment of balance,
The garden of jewels comes to life.

As the golden orb descends each gem a new brilliance,
The lower it gets, the less they shine.
Slowly fading to the shadowed scene.
The last thing to shadow is that sapphire sky,
As the light sinks the sapphires change their looks
One last time.
As they slowly fade to black,
Gone are the brilliant gems that once littered the garden.

 

 

Little girl don’t be afraid
I know it’s tough right now
but you will be okay

Even though she’s growing older
You can still see her beautiful soul
She can’t help but know that she’s lost in this cold
But she still has hope

She feels blinded by her scars
She expresses herself through her realistic heart
She’s still beautiful
She’s still feeling hope

You can’t help but see her beautiful soul
Words don’t cry
She still has the lovely Spirit inside

And she always feels something ravishing
It’s like an angel standing in light
She can see the world through it’s eyes

 

We all have a secret garden in our soul
It is where we turn when things are clear as mud
When the pool of sadness in our eyes becomes too much to be ignored
While we all just want to be adored
It is our secret garden, us against the world
There in the calm winds of your garden, you can cry silently
For the flowers and trees around won’t judge
The peace you have long craved has now arrived
It is your time to cry in your special garden

Its majesty brushed

with browns and reds.
Towering saguaro piercing
the land. Visited by screeching;
bats in search

of the insects illuminated
by the moon.
Sonoran paradise.
A wasteland: sweltering
with hazy apparitions by day,

frozen over by relentless
cold at night. Summer air invites
a silent killer.
It begins as avid wind-
agitating the dry crust
on the blushing rocks.

The devils begin to stir.
Survivors vanish-
into the cracked clay.

The horizon. The suns
resting place, enlightened
twice; now a darkened cloak.
Consuming everything,
everywhere.

Sand slices like shards of glass.
Wind shrouds the rocks,
dulling their glow. Overwhelms
the snakes and owls.

An eternity of rolling
dust encases everything,
everywhere.

Wind chimes batter
one another
in a futile attempt to escape
Their relentless
keening

A fire alarm goes off
For no discernible reason
Everyone scatters

When I pretend
to be asleep
I am exposed
Every time

Everyday something trivial
Will clatter
to the ground
And make someone
trivial jump

I can’t sing
in front of people
My voice comes
Out
but it wavers

All night
And all day
A bird is bawling

Did you know
Rattlesnakes have discarded
their rattles
They will issue
no more warnings

Yesterday in line
A baby stared and stared
at me
Squalling
the whole time

I fold inward on myself
Back arching
like a
Fierce, frightened cat