Expressions failing me
tonight, I sit silent
wondering when the words will come and save me,
come and pull me up from under.
I am completely engulfed
by the knot in my stomach and the lump in my throat.
- The summer sun glares,
a challenge for
dirty parking lot snow.
- The pink blossoms
falling from the
tree
growing from
the stems.
- Sweet, rotten smell of milk
& baby powder.
The heat intensifies and sweat
builds up on both faces.
Great...
- The sun reflected
off of her emerald
eyes.
They made me as greedy
as a gold-rush
prospector.
- A domino effect of
people breathing in
letting it out with
a deep sigh.
Today's early risers
want to sleep
forever.
- Darkness filled the
space around me,
anticipation giggles
forced back down
my throat
until I was found,
little pudgy happy face
upturned ear to ear,
greeted with the
best of boos.
- I was alone
and I was okay.
- I can still feel
your arm wrapped
around me each time
I make eye contact
with the moon
on clear, doubtless
nights.
- Your eyes blue as faded denim
unforgettable
also the color of my favorite
pair of jeans.
And like those jeans, you
no longer fit.
I grew.
And you didn't.
- A rosebud of eccentricity
bloomed toward noonday--
her kisses a sunrise of
strawberry-blonde imagination.
- I feel like
that crazy old lady,
dressed in a neon snowsuit,
doing an extreme snow plow
down the side of the mountain.
- If you were a
comic strip on the
daily funnies,
There would be
a lot of wingbats
and no quote bubble
could hold your anger.
- cliff-bound huts,
bulbous--
an adam's apple
trying to gulp
sweat and angry fists
clenched
around crowded reeds.
- A photograph is all it
takes
for the raging tide
to flood my brain
drowning the hope
that kept me sane.
- We get lost
& hold on to what could
be anyone.
You appear resolved.
Only we will know.
- Young love is stupid
love, it is
unique.
She told him to forget.
He can't
forget
where she used to rest
her head on
his chest.
Memories are the graves
of good times left
on the heart and a
scar on the soul.
- As the salty ocean air runs
through my hair,
I laugh a little
realizing that my life feels like
a country song,
sitting on the back of a pickup
watching the sun rise.
- The cold air
bites the tip
of my nose.
Stiffening my
fingers, making
it harder to
grasp.
Missing the feel
of your worn hand.
- My fingernails
dig in nervously
as I wait for news,
for anything.
They leave marks
upon my desk but
I will never scratch
the surface of who
you are.
- It was bold
And she was scared,
But she did it anyway.
- Sinking into
silk
wet white silk
that has turned
blue
from all the tears
that had fallen
from the edges of
her face.
