yours and mine
what's mine is mine
heart and mind

not expecting you to take the time
to understand
i don’t want your hand because
i don’t need help or held
touched or felt

understand i stand alone, kindly not cold
mind exploring things unknown, but i know how this goes
the mind doesn't forget, memories mine and i won’t regret something twice
here's why

green hand, so soft
bed of moss, conveniently in the shade of the big pear trees
whispers in the breeze, comfort of safety, closing my eyes for a second safely
drifting and then on for a forever
trusting pumping heart in the green of this meadow
atmosphere flawlessly mellow, sun rays pour gently, copious yellow
Growing, reaching, stems sprouting and tangling, intertwining hands heart mind with moss
Blistering, the experience
Bustling, breaking
the soil, thriving on hope to find another hand
your skin deep underneath
beloved land

and when i decided to look up, maybe you weren’t underneath but above
all there was too see was brown dirt, gray rock
discouraged, continue to search down deeply
hurt, un-admittedly

Realizing now but too far underground to turn back
too far now to close my eyes, blue tear under black sky
Yellow, green good
bye

Blue, hi
cold hand, blue
my hand, bruised
you're not you and i didn’t understand before but now i do
what's mine is mine
what's yours is yours
and we are not each others

good morning me
the cold AC, hot coffee thats sweet
good morning man
who holds me all night, love of my life
good morning cat
kneading and stretching on the fresh blankets
good morning dog
you bark like a rooster saying
Goodmorning

If I started humming,
would you guess the tune?
Mindlessly airborne strumming,
until I look at you.

Would you dance in the kitchen
to a song almost twenty years old?
Would you join in my weirdness,
or is your love not yet that bold?

Will you know what I'm feeling
from the songs I play on repeat?
How will you respond
when I spiral, stuck on the couch in defeat?

Will you paint me a picture
on a canvas blank as can be?
Or will you say you're not an artist,
when it’s not quality I wanted to see?

Will you love me if I were a worm?
Or a bird? Or a fish? Or a plane?
Will you love me when I ask those questions
at 2 a.m. when you work the next day?

If I asked you to play mermaids,
mid-summer in a public pool,
would you splash around at ease with me,
or stay dry, thinking I’m a fool?

Will you hold my hand in the grocery store,
bringing it up against your lips?
Will you walk me through the aisles,
in small errand, delusional bliss?

Will you point out the cows while I’m driving?
Not yell when I hit the curb?
Could you be calm to my chaos-
soothing my ever-tangled nerves?