Tea Leaves

Posted on by

Cooperation
on occasion
there was, I recall

With attention
— dare I mention —
to the most primal instinct of all

But love
what of love
thusly, here the poem ends

For one cannot
and one ought not
use, abuse, and pretend

You Can Survive

Posted on by

August alone again, prove me wrong

Dreams turned to nightmares

Out of the woods now, but strictly ill-willed attackers want me
Or — what I can give them

Still, every day, I show up
Smiling
Asking for more

Only arms-length adorers greet me
A bridge they must cross

All I am is a testimony
You can survive
Chaos
Abandonment
Doormatism
Abuse
Abandonment
Abandonment
Abandonment

X Y Zenith

Posted on by

Just this one more line
Just this one more time
But I would have drowned

If you’d meant to change
If it were the day
Strength you should have found

Boundaries are most real
Boundaries helped me heal
Cross none sacred ground

525600 Minutes Too Many

Posted on by

“Be done leaving,” I’ve begged Time

Stop the silence

525600 minutes, almost now

Only just this morning
Done biding for unspoken goodbyes
I threw the clock out the door

Glass heart that it has
It’ll not show it’s square-jawed face
’round my gold again

This Cup

Posted on by

I’m learning how to cry in deep despair and pour my blessed hot coffee at the very same time

Pain and gratitude in the same cup, indeed

I’m becoming better at praying goodness for others at my broken heart’s expense

Love and sacrifice from the same vein, it frees

I’m deciding to live with the dread of the box I was put into and with hope that I’ll one day be free

Abuse and healing in the same lifetime, glory

Outside

Posted on by

So there I was settin’ on the outside stair, put there as punishment, I guess

Though, unlike most youngsters, I didn’t know what I’d done wrong

Left out to live, exposing my skin and my heart to the harsh elements

An occasional smile from a passing turtle or bumble bee sustained me

Probably they spotted my deer-in-the-headlights desperation from afar

Speaking some kindness, they felt, wouldn’t hurt any

If only they knew, scarcity would have me hanging on their every glorious word

Writing of them, strangers, all these years and footsteps forward, later

Filling in the blanks left by the one who left me settin’, sad on the outside stair