It was the red roof, the arches, and the loneliness that first caught my attention. What a beautiful abandoned house! I knew I needed to explore.

It was your selflessness, the look in your eyes, and your playfulness that first caught my attention. Such a stunning, strong heart I saw! I knew I could trust you.

We explored that house. You and I.

I will never forget the lack of walls, the broken stairs, the graffiti of dinosaurs. Burned in my memory is the first time I rode in your truck, the meaningless debate over impossible paint that was once in the rusted bucket [checkered, invisible, or rainbow], how you were always ready to catch me when I climbed on something, fragile as I am.

Do you remember my Treasure? The little jar with the rusted lid that you had to open because I'm not that strong? It had seeds inside. It's still sitting on my desk. I smile every time I see it.

I drive past that old house, Marcello, sometimes - just to say hello. I could never have explored it on my own. I wish I could fix it up and fill it with brand new memories. I would paper the walls with laughter and the floors would become best friends with my barefoot patter.

It makes me sad that Marcello is so exposed to the elements - and other trespassers, perhaps not unlike you and I were. I hope someday it will be restored to its former glory.

Night Sky Whispers

Sometimes
the velvet night sky
whispers
to me.
In hushed tones
it tells me secrets,
the stars twinkling
behind wisps of clouds.
Tonight,
I wish it had remained
silent.
In my frustration I
SCREAMED
BACK
so loud the moon shook
and three stars fell down.
I BELLOWED and RAGED
until tears came out.
And then I softly
cried.
The things in my head
are taunting me,
you see,
and the night sky whispers
didn't
help.

Today I showed another
a hidden piece of my heart.
It wasn't you
and it wasn't his
and it hurt.
It was a little piece
- just a corner -
but it was part of the
essence of who I am.
It hit me hard,
just then,
that there is so much
fragility
in that which is strong.

Break the painted sky:
my whole world
trembles
crackles
then swallows me
whole.

Agents of shame
play reels of tape,
showing me my same
mistakes
again and again and again.

I beg for mercy
but nothing stops
until I

shut
my
eyes.


Silence.


I am alone in the darkness
of my mind.

The Wisdom of Butterflies

The silouettes of
butterflies
are dancing on my face.

I wonder...

If a butterfly could laugh,
what would it sound like?

Would they laugh at
me,
in the petty foolishness
of my decisions?
Would they
mock
me
for dwelling on
inconsequential
wishes?

I hope not.

I do so love
butterflies...

Distance
can be devastating.

I learned that
when my skin is
craving
your touch
and my ears are
itching
for your voice,
and there is
nothing I can do
to stop it.

There are perfect wounds
for every moment
I miss you.

I still can't understand
how this is possible.
Why do your eyes fill
with those emotions
at "hello" and
"goodbye"?
Why do you not
forget
me
as soon as I am

out

of

sight?

Why am I important?

Imagine,
if you can:
a lighter
next to a forest fire.

That's all they can be,
next to you.

Imagine,
if you can:
a kiddie pool
next to the ocean.

That's all they can be,
next to you.

Imagine,
if you can:
a grain of sand
next to a mountain range.

That's all they can be,
next to you.

Underwater

I'm drowning as it all
slips
away...

Suppressed.
Distressed.
Unable to breathe.
Fighting does nothing
the current is
too strong
so I sink slowly
down

to

the

bottom...



The light is so pale
and distant,
from this far below
the surface.

Wishes

These wishes are
weighing down
on
me.
They are sticking to my skin
in thick ropes
that tie me tight
to things that

aren't.

I wish...

I wish...

I WISH...

But it changes
nothing.