She lined up the family of life-like dolls on an afghan covered sofa and stood back to admire her work. There was the Mama dressed up in her ‘going to church’ outfit wearing her ugly comfort shoes. Papa was scowling, holding his briefcase in front of him as if to ward off bothersome children. The little flaxen haired doll, Benny, was holding his arm back as if to throw a baseball. Beautiful little Jenny was wearing her pink smocked party dress and black patent leather shoes.

She noticed their clothes were getting a little rumpled, so she’d have to wash and iron them. Their heads were beginning to loll on their chests so she planned to reinforce them with rods to stand straight.

Oh yes, she was proud of her little tableau of dolls. But what was she going to do about that rotten smell emanating from their bodies?

Up, up and away I go

To this heavenly world I say hello

Floating amongst the stars and the sky

Sprinkled with silver, swirling with dye

When is it not a sight for sore eyes?

These beautiful, blended, blueberry skies

They look like gleaming, widespread smiles

Welcoming me back they heave a sigh,

‘You’re back!’ they say

‘No need to be shy!’

But even though its all a pretty lie

That I just can’t help but buy,

I’m still lost in that incredible high,

Far from the world, away for tonight.

i waited and

waited

and waited and waited

waited

and

waited

waited waited waited

the sunshine hurrying down

hope an epiphany of sound

we are forever on the cusp

of what makes us look up

a game of w a i t i n g

for what keeps us breathing

The sun may hide, but she no longer has this luxury. She pulls herself up, muscles trembling. The rocky cliff has left her fingers raw. Below roar the billowing waves, each rise a memory, each fall a forgotten hurt. She leaves them behind, as she promised herself, she would. At last, she spreads her tired arms, her wish reaching for the blind skies above. The sky remains closed, as her shackles tear her down.

i blow up,

dynamite lit by

a dry match.

why

do i explode

at the tiniest hair

of a trigger

and yet stay

so painfully numb

the rest of the time?

why do i pile it on

and feel nothing

then explode when

the tiniest comment is made.

why can't i choose one,

feel or not feel?

why do i have to be stuck

in this painful inbetween?

why can't i go up

instead of

blowing up?

Up in the air,

Up in the sky,

Up up above,

Magic lays above in the sky,

Up with the clouds,

Up with the birds,

Up with sun

Darkness lays below,

Down with the trolls,

Down with the worms,

Down with the monsters that eat baby toes,

Up in the air,

Up in the sky,

UP UP ABOVE.

I want to go up.

To where, I don't know

but I know that it'll be

somewhere I've never been before

Maybe if I try hard enough

I could float into the sky

and never come back down

no matter how hard people call

And when they think

of me in the future they'll just say

oh she's the girl who went where

no one else could ever find her

And I would just be watching

from wherever I am, and maybe

If you're lucky enough

You could join me too

If you’re down in the mouth, something’s missing.

When your day’s heading south, just look up.

When your spring lacks its pounce, for you’re weary;

troubles all seem to mount. Then buck up.

Keep your head ever high. Meet those gazes.

With your head thus held high, your head’s up.

Keep your chin in line, too. No digressing;

fight that pout. You must keep your chin up.

If the weeds start to choke, grab your pruners.

Where the ground is all clogged, just dig up.

If your head starts to cloud, clear your vision.

Dig down deep to the roots of your soul.