physically, her body feels weary. your words
meaning nothing more than a slight gust.
promiscuity, one would say, is in
her blood, but when faced with temptation,

she lacks stamina. pace yourself, young grasshopper.
your suitors are numerous and oh so enticing.

she left during the night, grey glows from the

moon showed the path. distance was the

word he used when trying to easily let her

escape. you took the fall, my dear, for your

heart sinks faster and her bruises are just decoration.

its not her style to stick around but loneliness

ties her back to hometown.

she aches just like a woman,
but she breaks just like a little girl.

the strange feeling that this, your new surrounding

which will last a year, you see, to rescue

your girlish figure and taste your lust. its a disgusting,

almost dirty, realization to sleep in that bed alone.

I hope you meet mr. president, while rambling

I will be with the spoon and needle.

Is this a sensitive spot or shall I poke somewhere else?

I've got a little bird on gold string tied 'round my finger like a ring.

I'd give her anything because she makes my heart sing.

When she flies back to me I lack nothing,

but this bird has no cage... Fly on little wing.

the inner of her being, shown here.
the smoke keeps her nerves at ease,
the gun- just for decorational purposes
and a little fun, and the confidence-
like gangster.

on the rear view mirror, it hangs. the necklaces

and vanilla fresheners that once had a

story to tell. now, I look past them and into

the world behind me. most times, I see

it as a complete different color than what

my eyes see. and I left for this purpose, to see

what I see and not question the vulgarity,

indifference, or the lack of sensibility.

but mainly I just refuse to hear your name.

remebering you, dad.

as an ode to my father, the youngest years

shall be forgotten and washed away in the

lake that we caught fish and jumped from the rope

tied to the tree. only the good times, dad.

peanuts and popcorn, the x-files and the simpsons,

crackers and vienna sausages, me and you. someday,

dad, I hope for you to give me away, but in knowing

that everytime I hear "go rest high on the mountain",

"hotel california", or "fishing in the dark" I will be reminded.

you are my father, my pride, comfort, and the source

of my courage. thank you daddy.

Beginning today, starting with the missing you,

I've felt that in distancing myself I've released

myself into a triangle of peace.

me, myself, and I have been talking daily.

Contemplating my view from the window and

the one that you look out of. Slowly making

my way back, back tracking into the past

and into somewhat of a new future.

Realizing the mirror isn't something to fear,

but something to look forward to. Showing

the world how beautiful we can be.

If only I would let us. just be.

when it comes to emotions, sticky situations, or altogether

difficult positions, I'd rather get down and dirty with

you. Coincidentally, you are the root cause of these

faulty wires running into my telephone.

as the words become meaning from me to you,

I think your pleasure comes from my voice.

its calming, I assume, to focus your days on

unnecessary, incompetent, unimportant pieces

or tasks to complete. none-the-less, it passes your time,

stimulates your senses, and plays ping-pong daily

with your routine. keep playing your cards right, darling,

and you shall be seeing me soon.

this task, this decision to oneself, to grow in remote,

deserted, sometimes even well-populated situations is

worth discovering and unraveling. when your

bare feet are tired and that same strand of

hair she keeps twirling around her finger gets

over-rated, look around. find the details

in the fabric, search for the stitches that make up

the seam. your place in the sun may not be lead by

signs of any sort but planting roots , although

courageous, are not necessary. keep growing.

the past and the present are intertwining.

and whether it's this way or that doesn't

envolve the input of someone, especially

at this tiring hour, losing thier

view on this moment. your eyes follow

his footsteps and unfolding are the

ruffles on your skirt. sweaty

palms are a sign of frustration but in

this situation, take the lead. just hold on.

perscribe yourself laughter throughout

the days and temptations arise

in the night. just hold on. just. hold. on.

the seas, she dreams are in walking distance.
now, as well, but in a different way.
and their faces, I'm sure, are distorting my
own...you're an exception to the rule.
my bright lights, enjoyable but not yet
pleasurable reminds me of a future.
for you and me, maybe?

spinning, circles, back and forth
you're other parts, but you act the one. the patience, is a
higher virtue in something worth so simple. the house
that you loved, was my house, too. assuming my red heals
will have to wait, this change is all my space.
the bottles on the floor, the smokes in the air, I'm still
listening. Yet, spinning, circles, back and forth.

waiting on the shore that you said you would meet

me at. and as each new sunrise and sunset the beauty

holds me waiting still. the knowing is the easy part,

the steps in-between are loopy and jagged

as fear sets in and another day passes.

my faith doesnt fade, even when the day comes

and serendipity isnt on my side, I will

still HOPE.

its so inticing, the wreckoning. put this into
your body for safe keeping, it says. danger: overexposer
may cause spiraling and bullets to the brain.
and the twitching, it goes away, you hope, eventually.
this is what you bargained for, the selfishness. taking
the first step to the extreme, you were hooked. Square in
the eyes of your reflection, it longs for attention,yours.
playing carefully, only when no one is around.
playing, playing, playing yourself. bravo!

forever is not so far away.

he played the conversation over in his mind.

she had told her promises of always, and

never once did he hear lies in her voice.

this was her, honestly. they began driving, to

nowhere. relaying what each other had already

thought, this boy and girl confirmed thier

connection. 'today, and from now on, i know

i wont have to be alone.' she thought to herself.

today, your sign was handed to you.

in an envelope, wrapped up was the
escape route. its your map of the world
ahead, with certain destinations and
check points. spacing your time for
someone, and spreading connections
in the least expectant places. if that
entitles dancing, in any form or
fashion, let it be. with my red heels,
take me into the street and dance
with me. this image of finished
paintings with pretty girls and shiny
faces is predictable yet I'm aware
of what I'm about to do.

follow me , because i want you.
to show me, your intuition and
maybe, some touching. i'll
promise to bring you home, if
you say your bed looks better
with me in it. tempting...you are.
my lips stay chapped, i like it
that way. and you stay strapped,
to say the least. when the cards
are in your favor, you bet the
deck. keeping a deceptive face,
cross your fingers, hold on
tight. your fingers tingle and
body tenses up, he walks
towards you. follow me.

here, I sit. Still, in this room. the four
walls are blooming flowers that tell
stories. Stories from her childhood,
how she swallowed her surroundings
and graciously proceeded further
north than expected. on the course of
mishap came a follower. one believed
to be something worth mentioning.
he traveled, with her, nervously awaiting
his stop and secretly speaking to her directly.
he looked at her, through the silence, and
whispered, " begin your journey, open your heart."

I took the train, fast, just to
see you. and this morning,
waking, Im making the
decision to do for myself
what I couldn't do for you.
just being, with your eyes
open,always. you said, once,
that I was there. In your heart,
pasted there with hope holding
it still. although, I left you
and still look out the window
your way.

the city lights are calling me.
and I answered.
two months, I must wait.
then, great great joy.

his name showed up on my

phone today. youre playing

a dramatized game of cat

and mouse yet, you don't

see youre six points ahead

on the meter of lies. I bite

my tounge as you say words

of hatred towards the

"kind of girls" that mistreat

you. maybe its that Im not

wanting the pearls and

diamond that you gave me

last year. and as I plan

towards this new destination,

the spark is underneath

and its glowing rapidly.

and, today, i feel it.