The house creaks, little

brother leans over me, says:


I'll never collapse!

I want nothing more than to touch your heart, but I will never reach for it.

Instead I will build it a sanctuary.
Sacred grounds where none else shall enter - a home of its own.
Where ivy climbs columns, reaching toward the fountains overflowing with love - radiating with purity, honesty and compassion.
With a place to lay your head, and let all worries slip away, to be carried off by songbirds which sing your favorite tune.
Where every plant as you pass by, has flowers dramatically bloom.
For this space, as well as I, would do anything, for you.

You were my umbrella,
through rough winds and inclement weather.
To withstand and withhold,
you were my protection, my stronghold.
Beneath you I sought shelter -
something I had never done before.
Holding you closely,
observing you in admiration and awe.
Life swayed in all directions,
testing your strength and yet you stood.
Until one day a storm came,
and separated us for good.
Turned inside out,
taken capture by the wind.
My love for you was timeless -
a wound that never healed within.

The wind around the

house is restless, I lie still --


but I am restless.

He hides from life, he runs away,                                                            ­            
                                                                ­                                                   
 can't handle the strife of his everyday                                                         ­       
                                                                ­                                                        
       If he doesn't see it, it did not happen,
                                                         ­                                                     
feelings reserved, he's living on   rations                                                          ­                                                                 ­   
                                                                ­                                                  
Can't take the pressure, can't push
himself,                                              
          ­                                                                 ­                                           
out of his safe zone and into our hell                                                             ­       
                                                                ­                                                     
So easy to pull the covers over your head,                                            
                                                                ­                                                        
I would rather live in the light
instead                                                          ­    
                                                                ­                                                
One day he will realize, he's all
alone                                                        
                                                                ­                                            
within the walls of his safety zone

Water listens, acknowledging the pain
It washes and cleans the wounds lightly,
Soothes and calms,
Like a burbling brook to sit next to.

But blood…

Blood is thick and heavy.
It leaves a taste of copper in my mouth
Even after my head resurfaces and I can breathe again.
It stains and flows from cuts, tearing my stitches

Our nature to keep

our world safe makes us afraid --


of foreign people.