She wonders
(more often then she'd ever admit)
Whether it might be worth it
(and she quietly believe it might)
To shuffle of this mortal coil
(perhaps earlier than she'd planned)
If only to escape responsibilities
(as she's dreadfully selfish)
And wonders how it is
That's she's kept herself so far
Tied to the ground
(Though honestly she knows)

Gardens make me feel alive.
For as broken as I am,
The flowers calm me with their simplicity.
They never worry.
They are bunched together and make the best of each other.
They talk so soft, to the point where we can't hear.
They speak to the sun with happiness,
Sway to the wind as they sing in harmony.
The night comes in and hum themselves to sleep.
The sun rises and the cycle goes on.
My heart is now the garden.
I know the flowers sing to the beat of my chest, when I lie down, and drift to sleep.

that familiar look in your eyes
that wakens my passion
in watching your pupils grow-
dilating into
the shape of my world

in your eyes i hide
in your shadow i find comfort
untouched by a warmth
that blends with your soul

i am weakend
by those big brown eyes
the ones that
could show me
all there is to feel &
i don't ever want to live
to see them shed a tear

repetition
is never
more
than one
poem.

there’s no future
in this pill.

my mother’s head
is full of heads.

I haven’t a volleyball
in a pond
to **** on.

in the words of my son
a sailor     is lost at me.

I go on correcting oddities
in the brain and in the muscle
of a jack
in the box

as a cyclist
champions
hunting mourners

to keep their numbers down.

All she sees are unfamiliar belt
buckles and bottom row shelves
Seeking something I'm frightened
for her darting dark eyes to find
Wandering the maze of mundane
isles in the busy super store

A sunflower of panic blooming in
her small chest, pressing against her
fluttering heart as the clicking of her
tiny boots increases in tempo
She is Gretal, leaving glimpses of the
swishing pink tail of her oversized
nightgown to guide me as
she dashes around corners and legs

My strides double hers and a smile plays on my lips as
I match her pace with ease
Letting the shelves between us guard her fragile security
"Are you lost sweetie?"
My calm voice beckoning her teary eyed glance She nods
two times, certain

Her warm hand fits into mine
Together they swing like a pendulum
"I can do tricks!" she giggles
letting her feet hang Too thin I think
carrying her effortlessly
I say that her dress is very pretty Disney
princesses beam, frozen that way
I meant to say that she is much lovelier
than any fictional character

She smiles anyway

The route to the shoe department
fails to sustain its urgency
Her soft lisped chattering
ushers my foolish grin

that falls quickly when I realize
we are being watched
A stout woman wearing a malicious
mask over a face that
was once fetching before the poison
that fed her addiction

My heart drops and I pray
silently that this is not who
it inevitably will be
Her mother, to ****** her
from my strange hand
with an unyielding grip
on the little girl's upper arm

Greeting the child with a raspy
"I'm going to bust your *** when we get home"

My jaw falls open, empty
My hand falls to my side, empty
I want to fill my mouth with
chastising words towards the mother
and comforting words for the angel faced girl
I want to fill my hand with
my fingers, a fist, delivered to the woman
and take the little girls hand once again

I watch the purple hearted girl
be escorted away without
another word

Purple for her favorite color, but purple because she's been
wounded while serving her God given, God ****** mother

She smiles anyway

All I see are faces blending together
and torment
Seeking something that I'm frightened
I'll never find
Wandering the maze of mundane isles
in the busy super store