At the end of
                             sanity
I am in pieces

if  only my heart
           had a shield

intentions buried
            inside a tomb of fear

disguised torment
            where smiles lay hidden

My English teacher told me to write about you
in two MLA-formatted pages.

I didn't know how to tell her
that double-spaced words
couldn't bring me close enough to you,
or that Times New Roman
never was the right font.

No, you are of Greek constellations,
stars on the ceiling
strung from Orion's Belt.
You are a comet streaked across my
black canvas bedroom walls at midnight.

I sit by the window during those late hours
and try to write you down,
searching for the right adjectives
to describe the way my cheeks
grow hot enough to
burn paper in your presence.

I never quite nail it.

It might be because of your restless nature,
that kerosene-burning trail of light
left in your wake
as you journey toward the sun.

Take me with you one day.

Pretend that we are two doves
soaring high above trees,
finding home in each other
rather than among crumbling leaves.
Form the letter 'o' in the skies;
take me around the earth in circles
so that we may learn to love
even when life becomes repetitive.
Don't bring me home when we are
no longer suspended in the atmosphere,
no longer timeless.

Forget that clocks even exist.

Call me selfish,
but I only want your eyes
to rest upon my hands.
I suppose disregarding the hour
will force me to turn this paper in late,
but I could never turn in a paper
without an end.
And you are endless,
from the crescent moons formed
every time your eyelids shut,
to the warmth of your sunbeam laughter,
you are a continuous cycle of night and day.

With the moonlight guiding my
unsteady hands,
I search my bedroom,
looking underneath pillows
and behind old pictures
for another word to conclude this.
I stop when I hear a distant echo
that can only be your voice.
Its hollow reverberations inside my skull
remind me why I began
to lie awake so late at night in the first place.
I visit you in my dreams—
it’s the only place you allow me to find you.
Some secret chamber of my brain
must have you trapped
if I am only able to meet you there.

And that's the first time I ask myself:
what love can exist when it's all in my head?

It doesn't matter how cloudless the skies,
or how much daylight is on the horizon when I'm with you.
I will never be more than that insecure girl you see
fixated on her shoes among a group of people.
I will never be more than that girl you notice
clutching books to her body as if they alone can protect her
from the waves you create inside her chest.
I'm just an addition to the crowd,
a person occupying space in the halls,
an obstacle on your way to class.

I'm sorry for being too late.

-mp

His hand slipped inside hers and suddenly it was
as if the world learned how to breathe again
Perhaps it was the cadence of the blessed moon
sweeping away all the harsh lights of yesterday
Perhaps it was the way his eyes slanted sideways
as if to say, "there you are"
Anointing her wounds with Spikenard moments
of Grace, the room lit up like a roman candle
burning bright and fervent;
His Sacred Heart revered her shattered soul
and she turned into His Lily of love,
weaved by gold threads that were spun from Angels above.
There, bathed in the Holiest of Silence she became whole again
Walking towards Him unafraid, barefoot and wholesome,
as the day she was conceived.

I'm not an Academic
Cannot give a lecture
When I die there will not be
A Witherell Conjecture

Once I was a teacher
Teacher of the tweens
Now I live alone
Rothko blues and greens

Women are unkind
Smoke gets in your eyes
I.P. Freely
George W. Lies

2 prayers for Chicago
3 for Susan Meek
7 for my sons
7 days a week

     ****. Nerd. Absurd. Geek.

mirror, mirror on the wall ...
what the hell happened?!?

Dear  enchantress of beauty,

How could I ever overlook your pulchritude, when your radiance shines so brilliantly? In the garden of existence, your essence blooms with unparalleled allure, captivating all who have the privilege to behold your splendor.

Like a scarlet flame amidst a sea of blossoms, you were a rose of extraordinary allure. Your petals, kissed by the sun's tender caress, exuded an intoxicating charm that enraptured hearts with its vibrant hue. You were a masterpiece of nature, a symbol of grace and elegance that left admirers in awe.

Yet, amidst a tapestry of flowers, each vying for attention, it is not that I failed to notice your captivating presence. Rather, it was the fear of shattering the fragile silence, the hesitation to disturb the delicate balance of your existence. I stood there, spellbound by your ethereal beauty, my heart aflutter, lost in a momentary trance.

Oh, the regrets that now haunt my spirit! I yearn for the chance to embrace your ephemeral grace, to gaze deeply into your eyes and bask in the warmth of your enchanting aura. For in that fleeting moment, I sensed a connection, a cosmic thread that united our souls, transcending mere physicality.

Know this, my ethereal rose, that your pulchritude remains etched within my heart, a vivid memory that refuses to fade. Though our paths may have diverged, and time may have cast its relentless shadow upon our encounter, the memory of your allure lingers as a testament to the marvels of creation.

And so, dear pulchritudinous being, do not mistake my silence for indifference. I was but a humble admirer, captivated by the brilliance that emanated from your essence. For in that encounter, I glimpsed the extraordinary, and it forever left an indelible imprint upon my soul.

With longing and admiration,
A silent witness to your beauty