Singed Heart

I can’t say a word to you
trapped in the silence
that tells the story of us now.
Just a glimpse of you
brings me back.

To feeling like I
was being retched apart.
I can remember the waves
made up of the bellows of
my weeping lost out at sea,
and the lies the shore whispered
nonsense like: “I’m fine”.

I can never forget collapsing
into my tears in the shower
as the water pounded on my
back and down my cheeks.

I can never forget the feeling
of being lost in a black forest
as it was a blaze, trying to consume me
and everything good that was left.

They say “you’ll be okay”
and that is a lie.
Your singed heart and your scars
you will be more than “okay”
you will be successful, thankful,
you will be stronger,
you will be
loved.
You will be fabulous.
You will.

Don’t let “okay” and “fine”
be your goals. Don’t let him
take anything else
from you.

01/04/2016

Dad

His nose is in his book,
he is somewhere else
on another quest.
He sits in the corner
at the back of the bus.
He leans against the cool window
collecting condensation.

He doesn’t see me,
and I know why,
I’ve been there and done that.
The story clutches at him
and he has been carried away
by the words.

The only thing that calls him
back are his heavy eyelids
and his head
suddenly
dropping
into the sleep
he tries to resist.

I’ll say “hi” later
and let him know I was there
it is enough for me
to just know
that he is there.

11/23/2016

The Only One

I’m not the only one

stuck in he grind

of nine to five.

I’m not the only one

who craves more,

more time, more sleep,

more meaning.

I’m not the only one

who feels trapped,

running on the same wheel

But I will escape

I just hope

I’m not the only one

11/23/2016

Warm

His first smile in the morning
when his eyes are still closed
and his mind is crawling
out from the fog.
We draw close together,
foreheads just touching,
sighing in unison.
He lays a sleepy kiss
on my lips,
pulling me into his arms.
He is warm. He is
always warm
first thing in
the morning.

11/19/2016

Shadows

I would like to build
a house in the shadows
where the city lights
cannot reach
to blot out the stars.
Where the slick buildings
cannot block the horizon.
I want my mountains
surrounding me
instead of towers of steel and glass
I want to smell the trees,
flowers and the basil growing
in my garden.
I want to wake upon
white untouched snow
instead of blackened slush.
I want to live
among your masterpiece.

11/18/2016

Side Seat

Safe and secure
in my side seat
tucked away
from obligation and bashing bags.
A window to lean on
if sleep decides
to take me.
A view of mountains
blanketed by fog.
A view of shadows.
The world is a cameo
that I want to wear
at my throat.
I want to wear
the everyday shadows
and blurry lights
around my neck
to remember
the simple joy
of my side seat.

11/18/2016

Earth Shakers

How do we have children in a world torn apart by violence and atrocities? Women are burned in cages because they refuse sex from their captors. Lorries are driven into crowd of celebrating people. Terror is staining the canvas of this world. I know this question is probably rolling around the brains’ of many people. How can we bring our innocent and vulnerable children into this kind of world? These are my thoughts about that as a young woman who has always dreamed about being a mom and like any good mom I want the best for my children. I also know that the best for my children may not be the easiest thing. As a mother I believe I am supposed to raise children of light to fight the darkness. I want to raise future men and women of integrity, courage, kindness and compassion, and apart of that is being willing to let them go into the dark places. I don’t want to hold my children back from fighting this darkness because I am afraid they could get hurt or I could lose them. There are mothers all over the globe that have lost their children, how can I hold back my own if they want to help and speak out? I want my children to change the world even if it is just the world for one person. I don’t want to coddle my children and feed them lies that the world is a kind and understanding place and bambi’s mother didn’t die. I want to raise them to combat terror and injustice with love and I want to help fill their hearts with courage instead of fear, prejudice or hate. I want to teach them to fight for what is right, speak up for those who have been silence. I don’t want them to be idle sidelined adults, eager to comment on the news but do nothing about changing it. I hope my children take a stand. So how can I think about having children in a world like ours? Because my children will be earth shakers with deep hearts.

Inspired by the Paris Attacks
11/13/2016

I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.

-Sarah Williams-

Empty

Old houses make me sigh
I see their heavy, waiting heart.
They lean to the left
or to the right.
They sink deeper
into the earth
weighted down
by their disappointment
Forgotten and left on a curb.
Their crooked walls protect
nothing but the ghosts of memories
and the dust from an age ago
They cannot recall what it felt
 like when laughter bounced
off their walls like a pinball
and feet pattered on their floors.
The smell of bread and freshly
cut fir trees has long since faded.
The crumbs have been eaten,
the spills soaked into the grains
of the hardwood floor, and the dust
has settled like a divorce.
These old houses stand
echoing-empty,
forgetting what was and
what will never be again,

A great book should leave you with many experiences, and slightly exhausted at the end. You live several lives while reading.

-William Styron-