We stared in amazement at what this find may mean for us.

"It's here for the taking," Brother shrugged, "gimme a boost."

He landed in the dumpster with a thud.

I checked the school parking lot: empty due to Christmas break.

He pushed and I pulled. Success!

Ecstatic, we pulled our treasure away. In small puffs, our breath took wing upon the shimmering winter air. Giddy with hope, we hardly felt the cold by then.

We arrived at the door of our

impoverished home, filled with childish certainty: Santa would remember us this year.

This year we had a tree.

Waltz with me

Beneath the trees

Of plum

And burnished gold

I love you more

Than all the leaves

That swirl beneath our feet

if I told you that I had the flu

you'd tell me to go home.

but why is it

when I tell you I am flaring

with my illnesses

you neither see nor understand

you see fit

to decide

whether my suffering

is worthy enough

to be acknowledged

by way of judgement,

and doubt,

and choruses of

"you dont look sick" ?

why do you have empathy

when injury and illness

are acute

and not

when they are permanent?

just because

we handle it daily

that

does not mean

it

hurts

any

less.

I went all in and lost.

I have no more cards to play,

no more moves to make.

Perhaps I can try another game,

one where your gamble

is insured by the house.

No more risking everything,

no more laying it bare,

showing my heart naked;

it’s so bruised and battered now,

cold and hardened.

I doubt anyone would want to see it.

There was one rule: don’t open the door.

It was mandated by her brother, Xander – and temptation incarnate for Dahlia.

Xander was odd, and he'd become prone to outbursts – red flags much like the red door. Today, however, he’d be gone, so Dahlia moved toward the door. The house was hers - she had every right to open it.

The doorknob twisted in her hand. A growl. What the bloody….. The door opened, and Dahlia was assailed by noxious odor as eyes focused on a crazed reflection - herself.

One thought invaded: it’s ourselves we should fear most……

Dear God,

I pray to you in whispers

And tired, weary sighs

My days are empty echoes

Of restless, night time cries

But I think on how You do collect

Each tear spilt from my eye

You keep them in a vessel

Because for me, You chose to die

—————————————

You keep track of all my sorrows.

You have collected all my tears in your bottle.

You have recorded each one in your book.

Psalm 56:8

I. Today I Learned

I bury all I am in my sins,

Faith in liquored-love.

Fairy bottles replay static memories.

Plenty of bruises, red rift scars,

Blood spurts

And limbs locked;

Punch drunk tempting her fate

Corroding cherry wraith

Goblet crush

Top her off!

Sure today I tell you how I feel.

Daisy fangs swirl a trillion;

At midnight we sat in the back seat of the

Silver mustang

Butterflies fluttering in circadian allure

Fresh foaming crystal brew wrestling my mangled tongue.

With You playing, windows open,

Honeycomb night air veiling

Tingling liquored-liver,

I stare at your phone

and

silver skylines end.

II. No names left to trust

So I develop my alter ego,

gold chain hanging

To my mosaic heart,

I stumble among extinct stars,

Trap cold character:

Ice Age.

Soon the round world fades,

Faces blur, gold lenses curve all

l o v e.

Jump my h o p e.

Tan cap like Yin

and

Yang.

Polo emblem my ensemble;

Her tan skin like drops of honey

Sky resembles my F e a r.

III. Sin Miedo Me Voy….

Heaven only knows what awaits

Sore shoulders and unfurling gates

Trade stress for two thousand hops

Crack calve muscles:

Tectonic shift.

Cortisol huffs cool in serotonin rush

Far off I see liquified azul twilight

Orange creamsicle dreams,

Splashes of tangerine

flutters.

Infectious spirals smile before

collapsing.

I felt nothing but

Crushing breathes,

Heart echoing in my cavernous chest

droplets forming

Calcified

d

e

p

t

h

s.

IV. It Began With the Sun

Laser rays and isolation

Just how I would spend

the end of

My sunflower youth

Before I set off to my adventure,

A life that could not be claimed by

My mother’s past

Only my feet marching to newfound

Fear.

I wore a silky white T-Shirt,

Daisy wore overalls and a gray long sleeve

Late summer sun blazed black leather seats,

Metal belt stung with magma jaws;

A day at the mall with friends,

That's all It was.

I was just coming back from Houston

Something about the city ate away at me,

My family felt like a parasitic reflection:

A dystopian image I could not rattle- so I

Marched off.

Nothing but plains blessed my surroundings,

Farmland said to be gold

Dead grass like evergreen forests

Orchards sprayed with white paint

Tar roads with chalk drawings leading

Up to

Twists and turns

Here I faded away from

The front seat conversations

Let my shy tendencies take hold

Gold lenses flaring with curiosity,

H o p e.

V. Tonight You Belong To Me

I saw a maniac on the car roof in

The mall garage parking lot slowly slipping,

Screaming, not afraid but excited,

Clenching stupidity and death with flailing arms.

I awoke from my silent stupor, shot

Joy from my anchored mind

Strolled shop after shop realizing what this could all be,

Freedom from laser rays and isolation:

A new happiness.