Summer was made for wandering between tall trees,
Thinking about the smell of daylight
And if birds really do have knees.
I'd brush my hand down your cheek and wonder where you're hiding your wings.

I suppose that I should show you what it's like to love,
Buy you lots of pretty things.

When we are grey and ready for peace we will talk and think we are quite profound,
I wont let your hand go unless it's to swing, twirl you around.

Right now I want you to know
That there is a love song written for you.
You have a space in my heart,
right next to red roses,
rain
and big, bright blue balloons.

Every year we will take a walk through tall trees,
and I'll mention what you mean to me.

White lilacs remind me of wedding dresses,
pink ribbons and shiny  headdresses.
So I think that I'm going to talk from one knee.
I'll be all you really need, let's be free.

I know how you feel
At 4am when everything should be
Quiet; eyes closed,
Breath steady at an even pace,
Keeping pace with the subtle rhythm
Of your pulsing heart.
Nothing stirs, here,
Besides your afflicted mind,
A testament to all the
Late night infomercials
And dimly lit gas station windows:
Dutifully droning on
Amidst the sleepy silhouette
Of normalcy and a good eight hour rest.
There's no use fooling yourself,
Closing your eyes and heavily counting off
Sheep, in a vain attempt to assimilate
Something like sleep-
There's no point trying, here,
When a sliver of sky outside your window
Starts to turn a subtle shade lighter
Than 2am darkness.
Being alone is never as poignant
As when you're woken up in the middle
Of the night,
Surrounded by dark space
And stagnant memories, impartial
To the emptiness of a moment.
I know how you feel,
Restlessly turning your body
To face the wall,
Adjusting your lumpy feather pillow,
Peeling off your socks:
Routine can cure the coldest hearts,
But sleep will always elude it.
Stuck within your impetuous rituals,
Solitude seeps in
Through your open eyelids;
4am drips into 5am,
And before you know it,
Everything is gone.

LETTER FROM A MOTHER TO A DAUGHTER:

"My dear girl, the day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I’m going through.
If when we talk, I repeat the same thing a thousand times, don’t interrupt to say: “You said the same thing a minute ago”... Just listen, please. Try to remember the times when you were little and I would read the same story night after night until you would fall asleep.
When I don’t want to take a bath, don’t be mad and don’t embarrass me. Remember when I had to run after you making excuses and trying to get you to take a shower when you were just a girl?
When you see how ignorant I am when it comes to new technology, give me the time to learn and don’t look at me that way... remember, honey, I patiently taught you how to do many things like eating appropriately, getting dressed, combing your hair and dealing with life’s issues every day... the day you see I’m getting old, I ask you to please be patient, but most of all, try to understand what I’m going through.
If I occasionally lose track of what we’re talking about, give me the time to remember, and if I can’t, don’t be nervous, impatient or arrogant. Just know in your heart that the most important thing for me is to be with you.
And when my old, tired legs don’t let me move as quickly as before, give me your hand the same way that I offered mine to you when you first walked.
When those days come, don’t feel sad... just be with me, and understand me while I get to the end of my life with love.
I’ll cherish and thank you for the gift of time and joy we shared. With a big smile and the huge love I’ve always had for you, I just want to say, I love you... my darling daughter."
- Unknown

Not all of these lines
Are going to rhyme
Maybe it's not poetry-
But this time, that's fine.
I have to write this
Even though I'm still not sure how to say it
Why do you talk to me?
Do you honestly even care?
Or is it just somehow better
than listening to dead air?
I hold no great secrets
My philosophies are pieces picked from different puzzles
and even I don't know if they really make a picture
Or if they do, that it's one you'd want to see.
I'm not as interesting
As certain people make me out to be
Talking with you who shine bright like stars in midnight blackness
Just serves to remind me
How great my lack is
And I can't help but wonder
What it is that drives this-
Do you need my shadows
To remind you how bright your light is?
Or are you really trying to cast rainbows
into dusty corners
Bringing color into places that lack this...
I only feel this:
I have nothing to offer you.
So, please.
Leave me be.
Don't try to make me think I might mean something
to you.
Because
In the end, I know...
*I won't.

Okay love, you just need to walk
around the corner and my heart
stops dead.

Arrête!
I cannot hold back anymore
I can NOT -
and I dread the moment when I have
to face the facts.



I really do.