its hard to fit in when you carry around pockets full of dreams
and if truth be known you have no wish to hammer yourself a round peg into a square hole. So you wait and search for the way out of a life you really do not belong in, its a secret you were born with, that refuses to be ignored....

At lunch I bought a pear,
its shape: a quiet joke.
I cut it clean and slowly,
the blade, the slice, the poke.

It tasted like a breather,
not sweet, just real and right.
Like silence in the stairwell
or breezes late at night.

The afternoon unknotted,
each task a gentler climb.
I fed the cat. I folded shirts.
You’re not here. I’m fine.

Settle in the corner where the cat sometimes curls,
Where the painting of chrysanthemums hangs
Free of all Distraction-

Where the single vase of tiny flowers
Sits and a solid lump of stone rests

i don't know how old i was, 8 or 10.

I climbed out the window
onto the roof of the garage.

it was summer.

I lied down
and gazed at the stars for hours.

i reached to touch moonbeams,
and with my finger
drew a circle around the north star.

i dissolved into the hush of stars
free of want or need.

a single heart beat.
I, the wind, moon, stars.

I long to lie on the roof, again,
gaze at the stars
and filled with wonder.

I woke up again
And the same sun, moon and sky
But still feels different

Confused and shot up
Anesthesia injected
Hallucinations