Regrets
As I experience
These last days
Of childhood
With my youngest
I reflect
On all these moments
I missed
With the older two
As I tended
To the baby
His needs
His growth
His learning
As they
With one foot in childhood
And the other in the adult world
Stepped away
Without me noticing
Until one day
I looked up
And Abacus was a man
And Samurai was a woman
And all the child was left behind
In my box of memories
I regret that
Lack of attention
As surely
They felt ignored
I’m sorry.
If
If I could wrap
Each part
Of my body
Around you
And hold you tight
Forever
I would hate myself
For keeping you
From the world
If I could cook
A meal
To equal
The feast
That is our love
I would hate myself
For allowing gluttony
Into our lives
If I could
Hear
Our beating hearts
The synchronicity
Of a moment
I might
Remember
A from z
Or maybe
I’d remember
What is
To be
Me
And that sometimes
It’s everything
That equals nothing
And nothing
That equals
Everything
Not the Dinner Table
Staring down at her shackled hands, the shame sets her cheeks ablaze. Is the air heavy with malice? Or is that simply her imagination. Always, she had soft landings, until now. Handcuffed to the table, left to wonder what comes next. Your mind retraces your steps at times like this. How, exactly, did I end-up here. Working backwards through the hours, days, weeks, months, years of her life. Was it just inevitable? Or a series of foolish decisions? Or an emptiness, a yearning, that brought her here.
She splayed her fingers across the wood grain. Is it just painted aluminum? Are there clues here, on this table, about what comes next? If there are, is she equipped to see them?
Her entire body tensed as the door creaked open. She squeezed her eyes closed. She heard laughter down a hallway. Was it menacing laughter? Her mind, in the moment...so muddled, so frenzied...she was afraid to open her eyes. She focused on the sounds, the creaking door, the soft latch as it closed. The click as it locked. Footsteps, breathing...hers? theirs?
The touch on her hand made her jump and her eyes flew open reflexively.
"Don't be afraid." he said with a smile.
Dear Music,
Thank you.
For being there for me
At my best
And worst
Times.
For allowing me
To emote
Even when
I feel
Less than
Human.
For holding me
For waking me
For surprising me
For nurturing me
For changing me
For loving me.
For providing me
A link
To my past
And future
Self
And
All humanity.
For teaching me
How to be heard
And
How to know
Who
Can hear me.
For connecting me
When
I need
It most
When
I need
To connect
With a ghost
When
I need
To be found
While I'm lost.
Thank you
For letting Mee
Lose myself.
Today
I will try
To see
The music
In everyone
It’s Here
Knowing
Is half the battle,
Right?
I knew
It was coming
My seasonal depression
I did nothing
This year
To protect myself
Against it
Half depressed
As I have been
Anyway
Now
I feel it
Weighing on me
Daring me
To give in
Go under
Disappear
Honestly
I don't know
How I
Will make it
This year
I should
DO SOMETHING
I know that...
But
Alas
I don't
Really
Feel
Like
It
Frustration
From a writer's workshop last night. The syllabic form is 1, 2, 3, 4, 10
Why
Do I
Settle for
This madness when
I am worthy of so much more than this
It
May be
True that I
Hide behind my
Past mistakes and sabotage my future
But
I know
There are still
Some redeeming
Qualities that I pass into the world
And
The world
Allows me
To proceed with
Utmost caution, knowing I lack some strength
I
Lack the
Strength to care
At certain times
And cause little implosions in my world
I
Lack the
Strength to hold
Some core values
So that my light gets dimmed by my own hand
I
Lack the
Strength to stand
Against the man
Who snuffs out my life with joy in his eyes.