She moves like water

really slow at times

and others, there’s a rumble

you think that she’s retreated, but

she comes in with the thunder

if you went with her flow

you’d start off by just floating

but soon enough, you’d sink

and find she revels in your drowning

You summoned me

Now here I am

I bet you thought that I'd be mad

Perhaps I am

But, don't you know?

I'm better now that I'm a ghost

Pish posh

Don't drink that apple sauce

I made it just for him

It's apples and a secret thing

Run and stop, but never walk

The slow move is real boring

I brought you to this place because I thought that you were homeless.

Ring the bell

Clap, clap, clap

Lunch is over in a snap

Drink your water

Drink your milk

Drink the bitterness and chill

Don't be silly

Have some faith

Everything is in that wraith

Speak up, but

don't be too loud

Living with a sullen cloud

It's not over

Just begin

Take this thing out for a spin

Take a breather

Don't be rash

No one needs to see you crash

If you need another hit

Lean in closer for a bit

Let me whisper in your ear

No one ever leaves from here.

The thing I was trying to avoid

Even though it felt devoid

And because I had that void

To be empty

To be full

Nothing's working as it should

Some things seem to be improving

Others have some darker doings

To be naked

To be free

To be sinful

Filled with greed

Here's your clothing

Go be judged

From below to what's above

There's no telling what I've done

Past and future have been written

Present is what we've been given

Here's the one and only option

Nothing else is up for auction

If you think, just get in line

Everybody says it's fine

Even if you lose your mind

Subordination doesn’t mean not

standing up for oneself

does it?

it can’t

making oneself understood

is an art form

i never mastered and

if I did, it was in

another lifetime

I vaguely remember. The

ashes surround me, they

tickle my nose and

everyone can see how

dusty they’ve made me

I bathe in them daily. the

abuse and the

magic that helped me

dissociate long enough to

survive

consume me

alive

What would I do if I had a place to place my thoughts?

if an ear would hear me out, what would I say?

if a shoulder were to shoulder all my worries, would I share?

the truth is that I’m dying to engage

I’m dying but not desperate

I’m dying because I’m not desperate

because I’d rather die than share in vain

because desperation is vain

if you haven’t seen it and don’t understand it, there’s really no way to explain it

I’ll find what I’m dreaming of some way, somehow

the platform escapes me for now

it’s so close, I can taste, but maybe the time isn’t right

My mind always races and if I let it convince me, I get ahead of myself and that’s what gets me into trouble

but not this time

my only resolution this time is to be patient

and if I never find it, my thoughts are to die with me

one by one

like the Ella Wheeler Wilcox poem

one by one

I used to have so many conversations with you in my head because I felt I couldn’t speak to you

that stopped the day I let you go

the conversations turned into reflections of the last two decades

I sang “If I could turn back time” so many times that I believe I actually did

and now that time is convoluted, I find myself reflecting at times and other times, I’m having those conversations with you again

but not the same ones

not the ones about how I feel about your apathy

no, now it’s just wishing I could share the mundane events of my life with you

then I remember the last time that happened and I can’t help but feel that maybe time is running out

time has always been running out

but maybe we’re closer to the end than we can imagine

it’s happened to me twice before and I didn’t know what it meant

third time’s the charm, but unlike a few months ago, I don’t want to turn back time anymore

now all that comes to mind is, “What a wicked game to play to make me feel this way,

what a wicked thing to do, to make me dream of you…”

I miss my 12th grade English teacher

most of all, I miss feeling like the future was wide open

like the world was my oyster

because as soon as I graduated

i was just another number

nothing was special about me anymore

and I’ve never recovered from that fall from grace

the pain has merely turned to numbness