You remind me

of a long-lost life I lived

of fairy tales and tea parties

and toy cars and trucks and planes

i danced with brooms

and sang unearthly tunes

and waltzed through every room

i loved myself for who I was

and wore the clothes I wanted

i danced and sang for talent shows

where plastic stickers were the prizes

i ate the foods I wanted to

not scared i’d not be pretty

i made good friends who played with me

and laughed with me at jokes

i had dreams to be an astronaut or

to dance in tutus on a stage

to sing endlessly in broadways shows

or to save people with the law

i played hide and seek and tag

the last one it’s a rotten egg

eenie meanie miney mo

and other games like so

i listened to my Grammy read

thinking she was like the heroes

and my favorite books were short and sweet

so the endings would be closer

But looking now nostalgically

I see what I had not.

I would not always live in fairy tales

or drink decaffeinated tea,

nor would I always drive toy cars and trucks

or fly ’round in imaginary planes.

I would not always dance with brooms

nor waltz and sing as much.

I would not always love myself

and would not always try.

I would not dance for talent shows;

I’d need a different prize.

I would not eat the foods I wanted

just foods that kept me slim.

I would have few friends,

and those I’d have share different views

which lead fights to horrid ends.

I would not always want to be an astronaut

nor a dancer on a stage.

I would not always want to act or save,

to be dillusioned by the power.

I would not always play those games.

no time for hide and seek or tag.

I would not always see my Grammy

as a hero without flaws,

nor would she always read to me

our hobbies have since changed.

Not always would my favorite books

be short and sweet and good.

And now I look for longer books

and cry when they are done

because the end that looks so far away,

will come more close each day.

So when I dance with brooms in dreams,

or sing and waltz through halls,

I think of you doing all these things

and I pray your youth lives long.

these games-

suspended on strings

of bitter leaves and spun sugar-

are ones of words

and actions

and assumed thoughts,

dancing along the line

that blurs

between expectations

and reality-

the pawns tumble

one by one

into their graves

of black and white,

waiting for purpose,

longing to stray from

the rules

printed neatly

on colored paper,

shifting and changing

and wanting

to finally feel

alive

In a game of Tic Tac Toe

I'm always sure to lose

Playing with six year old

The rules can get confused

She can't see that I have won

Surely I am wrong

I've never seen this simple game

Lasting quite this long

They say to pick your battles

A win I'll never know

I'll hang my head, she will prevail

Her X will beat my O

i can't guess your thoughts.

it's a game of headbandz with no pictures.

i can't counter your chess moves,

you got me checkmated instantly.

i keep asking if you have any cards

and you keep saying go fish.

i try to tell you how i feel,

but the words don't come out right,

it's just a mess of falling dominoes.

you play monopoly with my body,

collecting bits of happiness

when you pass go.

you rip my organs out,

a twisted game of operation.

every friday is board game night.

and i dread playing with you.