Heaven help us
Still to fore, the whole
In a dismayed cause, thus
A chastity has made, a world its dole?

Light in the meadow
Where smiles are long enough to care
Such a small favor to ask, a vice be a rainbow
When a favor is for the same as salt, are we married?

Light in the shadows
Sense in a serious hand, has the tomorrow
To wait in simple glares and stymied knows
The wishes of another drop of rain to borrow

Light in the way
To find the such, a realizing friend
With the common for proof, the tows of may
Adding their stoic reply to an age old question...

Can a whole day, dream longer than another, loved?
Before you answer, is a caring we, the timid also
Measure upon pleasance, the truth has garnered us
The platitude of each, in the name of what was, though...

Anarchy at the cost of gifts and their expression
Implied ****, to wish we weren't so very vain
Kindness of a legend, to secure a role with where this is leading
And the success of a stand for one night, of worth's rain

Hill's to call home, and an availing wind to come, hungry?
A liberty in renown, that has a song on its mind, heaven?
Space for a little more silence, than a chance with all, demanding?
Sharing a thought for only more, is like a half-eaten pride, given?

Judgment of a God given sate
Under the feet of liberty, is a wager of brass and steel, colloquial
Merit in a simple eye to look and see our fate
Ready as we ever are, the drama of sincerity has seen it, a promise to marry little soul's...

That's how he has been:

that toddler, his little hands --


two little starfish.

I am from

Moments that felt like holding on to something that is slipping away

I am from Christmas mornings
Heart leaping
A child’s excitement
Pulling my father down the stairs
He is all scattered gray hair
Pointing every which a way
And a soft Scottish accent,
Chuckling,
And my mother is all smiles,
Eyes bright and laughing

But always, the smile is pulled tight
And behind it all,
Pain,
Pain resting upon her
Like an invisible cloak

And I am cross legged on the floor
Eyes bright with the reflection of Christmas lights
Pushing away the too-old-for-my-age knowledge that
One day
One day
my mother is going to break

And I am going to lose her.

'Come,
Take my hand'.
Said the boy
That I,
Created in my head.
To live a little lie,
And go here instead.
Escaping my pain,
Away from such dread.
When I open my eyes,
I see nothing but red.
But I cave inside,
And here,
I fled.

I grew up in a house of closed doors and retreating footsteps, so light I wondered if anyone was even there. A house of ghosts, defined by a thick layer of dust on the couches, and doorbells that were never answered.

I grew up in a house of silence, the only signs of life: coffee mugs in the sink, and leftover crumbs on the kitchen counter. Silence so palpable it wraps itself around my throat until it becomes comforting. The microwave cannot reach zero here.

Birds chirp incessantly on Sunday mornings, and the weight of their music sits heavily on my chest. Plants reach for a slab of sunlight trickling between dusty window shades. I can hear their leaves straining, and I want to tell them to stop.

A patch of sunlight reaches the floor, and my cat purrs loudly and unforgivably in it's warmth. Sitting at the edge of my bed, there are hushed footsteps down the hallway, a door softly shuts, the silence is broken.

My throat tightens, and I shrink away from the light. To be unseen and unheard here is to be safe. There are five ghosts in this house, and I am one of them.

I know I'm destined

for great deeds, however, first --


I've to finish school.

the nightmares keep
me up at night
almost every night
in March

i get to relive
the trauma
over and over
that month

i awake feeling
my chest tight
stomach turning
counterclockwise

my mind focused
on that first night
why it all happened
what did i do wrong

i was just a child
i remind myself
as i *****

i hope one day
i like March again
like i did
when i was 6 years old

From little dollies,
To sitting in trollies.
Sitting beneath trees,
In the summer breeze.
Not a care I felt,
Nor a worry to feel.
Just me and my friends,
Imaginary or real.
The delight of innocence,
In the simpler days,

As I ponder back to the simpler ways.