I'm Hurting Today

I'm hurting today.
For so long I've held every moment in front of me like a lit match
And, me a moth, drawn
Focusing only on the pinpoint light
But tonight the fire went out and my world grew bright enough to see
but then my vision blurred with pain I have ignored.

I wasn't as strong as they said;
I was only numb.
Like coming in from a winter storm, when your fingers start to warm
And tingle and finally burn.
Brings tears to your eyes. Like mine.

I looked at photos of our life before
Our smiles, your hand in mine, our heads inclined towards each other.
Our simple acts of affection
Ripped to shreds by truth and confession and lies and crime.

My memories, once pure and sweet and faintly dreamlike,
Nightmares, now. Garish oversaturated saccarine.

I'm hurting today
Because my yesterdays are gone.



I know he's in there,
Head bent over his ragged notebook
Pencil flying
Letting lose his inner turmoil
Or inner angst

Fucking poets.

I'll bet my name is nowhere
On those many scribbled pages.
And if it is,
If it really is,
I'm sure I play the tormentor.

Never mind the truth.
Never mind his lies, his wounding of
My heart.

Or how I'm standing in the rain,
Neon shining off my face,
Knowing he's in there sucking off our
Ended passion
For sympathy, and in that,

I'm only fodder for a lyrical vampire.

Summer Day

Summer Day

It's a lazy day in summertime
And everything is fine
I'm sitting on my porch swing
Holding a glass of wine.

My kids are being rowdy
In the yard just over there
And gentle breezes blow around
My wisps of sweat-curled hair.

I've got dirt under my fingernails
From gardening all day long
And behind me in the trees the robins
Sing a happy song.

My husband's in the back yard
Fixing something old
I'm watching him and waiting
For him to ask ask for something cold.

I rock a little, back and forth
And smile just a bit
These are the days I hope and pray
That I will never forget.

Fruit In Autumn

fruit in autumn

fruit in autumn
plump and straining at its skin
remnants of rain
glistening on garish, desperate color

tense moments, now
sighing, sinking, fading
in orange and fire
the setting sun bestows it's eulogy

then cool and violet silence.



some memories are wet
with purple fear
and gray regret

some are silver
masking aching, glaring red

jump over the spaces
the blanks and hidden, empty places
and close your eyes

fill them in with dreams
and lies
and other people's stories

if you believe it
long enough to make it real
you might survive
and never know the cost

Shattered Saviors

Shattered Saviors

Walking the streets like you're a mystery
Hanging on the men like they're your destiny
Wearing all your feelings on your tattered sleeve
Hoping they'll all love you if you just believe...

What they say
What they tell you
In the middle of the night before they screw you

What they do
With their eyes
Right before they get between your thighs.

Picking up your pieces after every guy
Sticking up your chin and never asking why
Leave the motel key on the abandoned bed
Sure that one day, this way, you're gonna get ahead

That one day
There will be one man
Who doesn't want to use you like a trash can

That one time
He'll see clearly
Everything that you can possibly be

Racking up the notches and believing the lie
Every night convinced there'll be just one more try
Before the nightmare ends and you'll be swept away
Hating what the mirror shows the next day.

Neverending nights of one night stands
You're on a mission...
Neverending streams of shattered saviors,
Your illusion.

The Swing Set

The Swing Set

The scent hit her first, tugging on heartstrings so forgotten that she’d thought they’d atrophied long ago. The crisp autumn night air mixed with the blood-like scent of iron and rust pulled her to the ancient swing set where, decades earlier, she spent her days soaring high enough to take her breath away.

Step by aching step, she neared the relic of her youth, memories rising to the surface, scenes of October days gone by filling her mind and bringing a wistful grin to her aged lips. The years seemed to fall away one by one as she approached the swing, her favorite swing, the swing she’d been sitting in when Johnny shyly bent and gave her their first kiss, both of them five years old. It was here, sitting on this very swing that Johnny gently asked for her hand in marriage, and it was here she came to shed her heart’s tears when she lost her Johnny to the war.

She eased herself onto the rough wooden seat, grasping the chains with both hands, slowly swaying back and forth. She inhaled deeply, her lungs filling with the bliss of memory, the goodness of nostalgia. Her eyelids fluttered and then closed, and behind them she saw bright golden sunshine, swirling brown and red leaves and she heard the ethereal laughter of children laughing, playing their chasing game through the tiny park.

“You’re It,” she softly sang out, head tilted and resting on the chain, her breathing slowing just a bit.

“Come and play, Bitty! Come and play with us!” the voices sang back. She longed to go with them but she was so tired, so worn down, so old.

“Come and play!” they called to her, and she knew she couldn’t. Her heart began to ache with the sadness and she felt her years beginning to pile back on her, beginning to crush her again. The laughter faded slowly, falling away from her as her smile faltered.

“Elizabeth. Bitty, honey, come on, now,” a new voice called her. This voice was soft and warm, deep and resonating, so kind, and so unbelievingly familiar.

She let the loving voice envelop her for just a second longer before opening her eyes, expecting her daydream to evaporate as she faced the reality of the park drenched in moonlight, but what she saw made her gasp.

There stood her Johnny, her first and only love, her husband and her light, lost so long ago and now in front of her very eyes smiling down on her with lips she hadn’t kissed in more years than she cared to remember. His hand was held out to her and she took it, noticing her hand had lost the ravages of age. Her liver spots, her wrinkles, even the thinness of the skin had been replaced with the bright glow and firmness of youth.

She rose to meet his embrace, and he held her with a love that flowed over her in velvet waves. Leading her away from the precious swing, she paused to take a final look back. She was only the slightest bit surprised to see the figure of an old woman sitting in her seat, a soft smile on her wrinkled face, eyes closed in a slumber that would never end.

Turning back to Johnny, she gazed up at him and lost herself in his smiling blue eyes. The couple walked through the park, unhurried, his arm around her while her head rested on his shoulder, and together they entered Eternity.