hardly at all.

do i think about it. i think about it.
a little. just a little. only sometimes. very little.

most of the time i just remember that somehow i could see
myself in away i had never before. my smile i think about my smile. smiling.
i could feel it deep within my cheeks sent from my heart to my lips.
but like i said, very little. hardly at all. sometimes i think about the rain and thunderstorms. most of time i remember the pain. so much of it that if my job was to shovel it i still be digging out of the dirt. wait i am. like i said just a little. very little.

i remember i though i was pretty. but just a little, hardly at all. i remember the happier i was the paler i became. thinner. but only sometimes. i remember the conversion machine that existed within me. you said pretty things and i converted them to what they really were. little. only all the time well except when the machine started to slow down, then i held on to those words that meant very little. then they became big. BIG and BLINDING. but it all meant very little. so you see hardly at all. never really. only sometimes.

old

he knelt down and took her hands in his,. he could not stop the tears no matter how hard he tried, she weeped. she could not help but think how did this happen, how did he not grow old along side of her. he desperately tried to make her pain go away, he
put his lips to her ear and sang to her down by the bay as he rocked her back and forth. slowly her lips stopped quivering. his shirt drenched by her tears now, he laid her down and continued to sing to her till her eyes closed till and her hands tightened around his..

the lump in my throat grows bigger with every letter
i press on the keyboard. the world wants to change, it is crying out
and some people can only try to stop it with violence, blood and egos
i wish i could scoop out the ego within these men who get validation
in surpressing the growth and needs of others.

woman without a face

i think i am not good at it. i try. but it is hard. would it be okay if i was the woman without a face. would you mind terrible if i surrender to failure. i don't think there is much happiness that will come from knowing me. ask the others the ones who turned away. I am writing this and if you think i am sad, no, no i am not. there is something that comes from knowing my weaknesses and my worth in this world, knowing it make's it better then pretending that i weigh more than i do. wait i do weigh more than i think i do, so while i become the woman with no face is okay if you take my body too.

ugly ego

i want to hold the rain in my hand. i want it to not melt away and run down my arm. I want to kick a pudlle and i want it it hit something, someone- yes i have said it. egos are so big that the one's that hold on to them above there shoulders do not know what a mess they make.

no better than her or him you can not take your words and make them weigh a thousand pounds and believe that you will not crush anyone one with them. I wish i spoke a foreigh tongue of witches so i can lay a curse upon you, not one to destroy you you have done that yourself but one to build you into a better human being or just human. wait i know you walk around thinking that you are already there that is what troubles me and those who know you.

notes drift me away

i am listening to it- the music. i am getting lost in it's notes, going too far. It is playing for me and i am wanting it's waves to carry me away. I love the piano. love it so much i am afraid i will pull out the anchor and drift. I know now that i am scared. scared of both outcomes so i stay there on the dock that sways slightly from side to side- that is all i can afford to risk.

math

the other day while you were gone, sadness and fear came over me. a thought moved me to tears. i swirled that thought between my lips, trying carefully not to swallow. everyday i am near you is a day closer to being without you. is that true i wondered, i tried to look at it closer. a math equation. i stood up and sat back down. i dried tears as they fell. this is wrong i said to myself. why does it feel so sad i asked. why does it feel so sad.

the envelop

as she reached her hand in the mail box and pulled the envelops out, there it was she was sure of it. she entered back into the house and laid the bundle on the table. she ran upstairs, made the bed and put away her clothes. she was running, ignoring. she came back down and as she passed it she could feel it call out to her and just then she called out to the dogs " let's go out". she lingered and strolled but she could not slip away from what she knew was waiting for her inside. she opened the door once more and unleashed the dogs, she ran her hands under the water bringing her cold wet hands to her face, she let the towel fall to the ground. it felt as if she was counting the steps to the letter. she picked it up, examined it closely then ripped the envelop. there it was laid out in graphing detail what she would be experiencing, charts, pictures, it was to be more difficult than she thought. no where on those pages was it written how she would feel, how if her heart was to be broken how long would it take to mend, could it mend? would it mend? she place the pamphlet back into the envelop and walked to the table, this time she opened the drawer and place it inside as she whispered to herself "monday i shall know what i might not wish to know".

the train took her

i wonder sometimes when i lost her? as if that day my eyes were filled with tears that i became blind to what direction the train took her. I hardly remember anything about her. the clothes that hang all over the house don't even trigger the faintest of memories . she is gone. in my attempt to make her stronger i scared away. sometimes i think i hear her, in a passing giggle or a sigh but no nothing, for she was silenced by my naive ways.

Sometimes it feels like i am following her but how could that be i left her behind, kicked up dirt in her face. confused she sat on that train and now the train is gone and no one is looking for her, not even me.

family

my family. ours. this is a happy sight.
this is okay by me. this is who i live for.
and that is where my bliss comes from.