Today I sat down to write a note
That turned into a novel
That morphed into a saga
That grew into a multi volume series,
And I finally lifted my pen mid word,
Done with it but
Not done.

Today I sat down to pen a single feeling,
But it metastasized into
A whirling, swirling ball of
Confused and jumbled emotions,
And I stopped mid metaphor,
Done with it but
Not done.

Today I sat down to be simple,
But I soon realized
Nothing is ever simple
Or easy,
Or single faceted,
Or straightforward,
And I halted mid thought,
Done with it but
Not done.

Today I think I'm going to step away,
And not put pen to paper for another day.
For I think, for now, I am done.

The flashback burns
My retinas
Until even with my eyes open
All I see is the grusome scene
I thought I'd left far behind me.
The panic sets in,
And my leg begins to bounce
Up and down
Under the table
As I try to hide the sudden onset
Of heart-stopping panic.
I should have known though
That no matter how infinitesimal
The change in my moods,
You are the most sensitive barometer.
Your eyes glance at me
And I know if I don't look up,
The piercing stare full of concern
Will bore a hole in my skull.
So I glance up into eyes
I never asked for,
Never deserved,
Never knew I needed in my life.
Your eyes hold no questions but one,
"Are you ok?"
Your eyes hold no promises but one,
"I'm not going anywhere."
I don't say a word,
Yet you know,
And so
I'm enveloped in a bear hug.
My heart slows its manic staccato beat.
My breath resumes its almost even rythm.
And I feel the broken pieces of me
Begin to fuse themselves together again.
When you release me,
The warmth lingers in my bones
As an injection of time-delayed
Antibiotics to ward off
The aftereffects of the flashback.
And for the first time in a long time,
I know I'm loved.
And Love is the greatest balm of all.
With Love
Every wound will heal,
Every pain will disappear,
Every scar will fade away,
Every bitterness will become sweet.
Love conquers all.

You say,
"You should let me love you."
And my heart skips a beat.

You say,
"You should let me love you."
And my apple-cheeks redden.

You say,
"You should let me love you."
And all my fears disappear.

You say,
"You should let me love you."
And I know that's all I want too.

You say,
"You should let me love you."

I must confess
I'm broken-hearted, damaged, and
I don't know how...

But when you say,
"You should let me love you."
I'll say,
"Ok."

Today is my birthday,
And unsurprisingly
I haven't yet heard from my family.
I texted my twin
Late last night and early this morning,
But my texts have gone unanswered.
I miss her.
I miss all of them.
I was a fool of a child,
Writing all those stories
In which I'd leave them
And start over somewhere
Completely new
With people who didn't know my past
Or care.
All I wanted as a kid
Was to have a different family,
But now all I want is mine back.
It all went so very wrong,
And I don't know if I can fix it.
I don't know if it's even fixable.
I doubt that it is.
So all I'm left with are the memories.
It hurts, you know, to be left.
I think I always knew it would,
So I dreamed of doing the leaving,
But I loved them
And some part of me couldn't leave.
So I stayed
Until they had one by one left me.
I know it wasn't easy for them to stay.
Just because we're family
Doesn't mean that we're required
To stay in each other's lives.
But I chose to stay,
And it hurts
That they didn't choose the same.
I guess I should do what they have done:
Form a new family
With the people I want to be around
And who want to be around me.
But all I want is them.

I want to feel their arms wrap around me
In a great big hug.
I want to share
In their triumphs and successes;
I want to cry with them
In their failures and sorrows.
I want to laugh with them
The bellyaching, deep-chested guffaw.
I want to fall asleep
Knowing they are near.
I want to reach out and hold their hand,
And look down to see the skin
So similar in tone.
I want to eat a meal with them.
I want to hear the sound
Of our voices melded in harmony
Sing together.
But most of all,
I want to enfold them in my arms
And say, "I love you with all my heart."
And have them say it back or "Me too."
I want to know
They are safe and happy and healthy.
I want to soothe their fears and anxieties
With a hot cup of tea
And a good laugh or cry.
But most of all,
I want to look into their eyes,
To say nothing,
Just to gaze again at the depths there.
I want to stand with them
Through everything they face,
Shoulder their burdens,
Put a smile in their eyes.
But most of all,
I want us to say,
I love you.
I love you too.
I love you four.
I love you infinity.
I love you more.
I want them to know love--
Unconditional, freely-given,
Unyielding and unwavering love.
And I want them to see
They're my family,
And that I will love them.
*Always.

I can see it if I close my eyes.
I can hear and smell and feel it too.
The scent of strong-brewed coffee,
As you so love,
Wafting up from tightly clenched matching mugs
As the hardback Adirondack chairs
Gently support our not-quite-awake frames
Seated on the eastern porch
In front of the green meadow
Hemmed with forest in the distance
As that darkest hue
Of midnight blackish-blue
Begins to lighten ever so slightly
Before the onslaught
Of the brilliant fiery sunbeams.

*A new day has dawned.

When I was a kid
It was so easy
To get lost
In the depths
Of my overactive imagination.
I dreamed up worlds
Of saturated colors
In arching storylines
With characters I knew better
Than I knew myself.
They were my escape.
There were "Kristen" and "Melanie",
The sisters who loved unconditionally
In a southern style home
Transplanted to the landscape
Of the Pacific Northwest.
There were "Tadgh" and "Samantha"
Who wrote melodic masterpieces
To match the turbulent serenity
That threatened to pull them apart
With every corner turn in life.
There were so many others
That I poured my time into,
Creating a universe
I so desperately wanted
To permanently live in.
Though I was their creator,
Their molder and former,
I was also a mere visitor,
Just pressing my nose against the glass.

Now sometimes I wonder
Whatever became of those characters.
Did their stories turn into the fairytales
Everyone hiddenly desires for themselves?
Did they wind up finding love
And family and happiness and peace?
Did they struggle and fail and lose at life?

Some say I could go back,
Find the threads of their unfinished tales.
But that isn't possible.
It isn't possible because I've grown up,
And the door in the back of the wardrobe
Has become a flat panel of wood.
And I'm left with my nose
Pressed up against the glass of memory.