My stomach is tingling,
Appetite or illness?

Telepathic touch
It surfaces, before I notice myself asking.
In form and instinct he knows me,
But in origin, our intuition’s slacked.
I haven’t exposed my truths,
What I might’ve thrown out, could’ve  mislead.

Agony nudges gently;
You aren’t worthy of love she says
You’re repulsive.
You’re sinful.
You’re ***** and inedible
People try to help you but you don’t want to be helped.
Her tone is generous, attentive, loyal.

With these words I perish;
“Stop you’re melting me, aw God”
He kisses me and swoons onto my chest, smearing my body on the sheets.
The juncture of my withdrawal alights.

My blinkered eyes trudge the familiar trail, but then fixate,
-a penetrable route disguised.
take the tired track or trod the untrodden?
Perplexed in ponder I whisper in trance
Quiescent terrain ...quiescent terrain?

He’s snores as I lift my head from his belly
"...an amaurotic trial".
Squeeze. The soiled sack flattens against the lip of his favourite mug,
Adorned; those pungent, final drops.

The frisk evening air lifts my limbs and I wave as I always do.
Thanks for everything, as he always does,
Get home safe, as I always do.

Lingering or loitering,
I brace for his lips to flourish as his leg hooks the infamous green frame.
"I’ve been admiring your bike, I keep seeing it around"
Such sweet beginnings,
Such oblivion to an end.

He nods.
Farewell, and may we meet again in happier times?
Perhaps.

I step inside,
Retreating to what is known;
a path that has been walked before.

If I were to do girlhood again,
I'd have more anger.
I'd flirt with kerosene
And encourage myself to light the match.
The bridges would burn and I wouldn't feel one bit of hesitation.
I'd feel the feelings
And scream them at the top of mountains.
Everyone would hear me
And I wouldn't apologize to a single soul.
My parents would give me space,
They would ask for my attention but never assume it's available.
I'd feel alive
it'd be written all over my skin.
And whenever someone asked me about what those words meant, I would tell them.
My tone would be firm, and gentle.
I would expose every syllable
Without fear.
Because being known for who I truly was,
Wouldn't be scary
Like it is now.

When I was young  and time was infinite
I was spontaneous,impulsive, impatient.
Now I am older
and life is precious
and timeless becomes time
with an end in sight.
Love becomes more visible.
I am adventurous,
pensive and patient,
riding the next dream
into a timeless future.

"You tower - me castle"
Said Tarzan to Jane.
Lets ******* collide
and let these prisons
fall to the ground.
What will be left
when those old worn structures
are lying in pieces on the earth
the relief of a stone returned to its source.

No longer suspended in mid air
Balanced and cemented in
by a strange cruel force of society
of institution,
of creating safety.

There is relief, and sadness, and letting go...
in this holy - unholy mess.
This twisted mass of rubble, rock, moss and wood.
These rocks should be lying on the ground.
Nestled into the earth
and connected to soil.
Let's make it so.

Lets tear the whole ******* lot down.
Those old prisons of boarding madness
Expose them for the toxic dens they are
and set others free to rediscover their colour
the flower of their youth.

Margaret's fingers clasped and still
white birds upon her window sill
silent doves that came to rest
sleeping now upon her chest
each settled bird that came to land
will fly no more from Margaret’s hands

it's got to be the right time
the right one for the
trance of dance
of crying
of love
or prayer
stay awhile to feel
the breath of hours
or the pilgrims breathing
near darkening forests
zebras forgetting their
blackness
the pulse of far riders
blown away
by a mirage caravan

blessed those who
pray for the calmness
of rain