Miss Amanda

Honeysuckles and lullabies on her tongue...

Wildflowers in her hair and wonder in her eye, she set out to make "great" better, but fell short just short a concrete rose...

Beautiful and hard, she saw her way through life by letting them look and want...lust after an innocence they didn't know had been lost along the way...

Everyone else is the problem--no one could possibly understand her plight;
have a heart to care about why hers had grown so cold...

Forgetting that there's no warmth to be found wandering outside--only empty lives there and she,

With the smells and songs of yesteryear...of simple and sweet gone by--of innocence, lost.

1.6.12

I keep feeling the need to reach out to a place I am unwanted...life goes on yet pieces of me float...wander purposefully toward a resolution that will never come.

He loves me. To a point. Doesn't want me. Past a point. Needs me to silently forgive the wrong he keeps doing. Beyond the point.

There is no return from the middle. The purgatory of heart and mind is unsatisfying compromise...because everything's in it's place and there's a place for everything...

I believe "unwanted" is a space uneasily detected, but readily identified...in a far off look or stare; faint whimpers hung loosely on lips that slip into cold air...

To the point. I'm here. Past the point. You're there. Beyond the point. One of us doesn't want to feel the felt...live the life...the reality of bitter regret.

All we can do is enjoy the motions...
All we can do is embrace the roles...
All we can do is numb the obvious...

On opposing sides of a resolution that will never come because...

We don't want it.

1.21.12

With each inhale, love grows...

Nose nestled deep into hair...cheek...neck;

I escape in the wonder of you
The good--the innocence that coos me into hope for a better and brighter day,

And exhale slowly a prayer of pronouncement, declaring all that you will be...

Offspring are trees that grow family and root legacy;

So with each inhale, my love grows for you...

With nose nestled deep into hair...cheek and neck, I bask in your promise--

And declare that you, my son, are destined...to be.

Holiday

There aren't many days I feel the need to feel needed...wanted...special, even...today though, was one of those times I wish I knew for sure that someone was thankful...elated...relieved that I am here and we share in the journey of this life together; I know any other time...but today, I forgot...
And he didn't remind me. She didn't care. And you, weren't around.

5.26.12

She spoke,
Words like prickly side of rose

The sting
The beauty
Never to be ignored

She knew,
Transparent like dewdrops on the greenest blade of grass

The open
The honest
of each moment, never to go unnoticed

Grace comes and goes with dignity
And all that happens in between remains...defines...and alters life forever

Each time, the encounter is different;
But it's always raw...always pure

Just like she who spoke
She who knew
She who came, saw and went--

Always raw
Always pure

Dinner for Two

Skin crawls at this once carefree moment...

Every stare, ridicule;
Every head nod, quiet reproof

Embarrassment reads loud and clear in the subtleties of you wishing you weren't here with me...

And though perhaps I shouldn't,
In turn, I share your shame...