Still Grieving

These why-natured questions no human has answered
Nor monsters willing, either
Invade my slumber

Nightmares, demanding I wash the dishes
Become thinner and wear clothes that aren’t mis-matched
Occupy mistress status

Keep me searching

Leaving me susceptible to sages insisting
A renaissance woman now, I ought dress for my inner warrior
The muse who I let be stolen

At 3am I harken her

A ghost now, still grieving for answers from man-shaped monsters — those captains who’ve abandoned the ship
She cannot answer back

Nocturnal Eyes

I was not granted 
Nocturnal eyes
For in the dark
I cannot see people

Dancing like pinpoint lights I wish to make sense of and wish to join hands with

Smiling like soul-seekers they wish to be part of something much greater than this 

I was not granted 
Nocturnal eyes
Nor are those
Who descend


At all hours
I seek the horizon
I was fated for
I touch the light lingering there
But what is this
The pause before you burst forth
Or the looking back 
On your way to tomorrow
And my name is tonight 

Still, Soft Search

Four corners I’ve found
Flat, hard, sharp, square
I dig in, grasping, despite the glare
It would appear
It is for naught 
And not my style
I let go, hoping, because the song 
The world must be softer than this