Hush now,
Comes the morning wind
On leaves soft like heaven sends.
I rub my nose to the air slowly,
My face cupped in warm caress.

I draw, ink pen in hand.
And the lines move me,
The white space pleasing.

I am in a cool funk
Maybe I should slow down.

I am
Poised in stillness suddenly
And only I know it is not silent retreat
But a calm serenity of being.

Slide your hands along me.
The inside of elbow and wrist,
Your strength pressing, testing.

Swaying softly to slow beats
I move in the rythm of me
Thinking of you.

I
I cried today
For some things that
Never change.
I had hoped you were
Growing, thought you were.

I tapped into that little girl,
The young women treated
Undeserving, unimportant
Even by and to herself and
I cried for the sadness of years.

I cried for making the right decision
That I thought hurt you deeply, but,
Really broke my own soul. I cried,
Not understanding how I could have
Ever been so weak. I cried feeling

Taken advantage of
I did not let the sentiment bleed
Into the present.

II
I shred my life
Listening to Floyd,
Listing and remembering,
“ah, that was when,”
Sadness and the anger stirring.
Not the best time.

III
These three months and I
Had just decided I
Would die alone and happy.
You shook me.

I see past lean sinew
To the good stuff of you.
That’s what I meant
By “eh, kinda cute.”
*Licks your brain.
You drove me wild
Before we even met.
I missed saying
Bye for now,
Yesterday.
I miss you horribly,
Today.

I am 100% absolutly gloriously beautiful
In my thought and in my wanting,
And in your eyes perfection dwells.
You make me think, you inspire.
Ah you, I do adore and admire.

So fucking smart,
You're so cool.
I had no chance
Not ever.

Internal struggles
I must voice,
So I write them out,
My soul singing,
My soul bleeding,
Or just me thinking.

Energy low
Busy day ahead
Busy day yesterday
If I am quiet, that’s all.
Mostly.

Things fall naturally,
Altered only by parameters,
Human constructs all.

Idealization, fantasy and the illusory concept – “Or might we regard idealization as, sometimes, a process of bringing alive features of the other that are hidden and masked in ordinary, everyday interactions?” Oh man I love reading psychology…

Kismet called trying to renig.
Told him to fuck off.
He called again, I didn’t answer.
He came by the house,
I beat the shit out of him.
He finally left the decision longer
And in my hands of fate
Forming fire in the heart,
Burning of the soul,
And wetting of the lips.

Something serious to ponder,
I thought, is this the happiest?
Or was I committed to the
Commitment I had made.
I think fast and form thoughts faster
And change my mind in understanding
So many times. I voice these.
And all things fell simply to the
Things I need and need to give
And they weren’t there.

I am finding them here,
Only a constraint on time,
Not on my heart, not on my desire
Are theses things held from me.

Harsh reality,
Chick on the side.

I shy from rating you a ten
From calling you perfect
Though I think it.

It is in me, I can feel it humming softly happy.
I will not articilate the single sound.
It would break me.

You know where I'm at
I'll be here a while yet
Not knowing but trusting in you.

Save it for me,
The sweetness of kisses in the rain.

More and I wanted it yesterday.
Too much and I need it now.
Thoughts I express and the next
Antithetical to last while juxtaposed
To the one even after.
I have opened my heart to possibilities
And am ever thinking, curious.

Life is short,
Things change,
People die,
Be happy.

That chat is a game
Yet it thrilled me today,
Your claiming possession.
The assumption of others of
Your claiming possession.
My letting you.

I was lost in you
So comfortably.
You’re so cool
I wonder
Did my eyes give me away
The pink in my cheek,
Or my heart on the sleeve
Of the shirt you lifted
Sweetly.

Life is too short to spend it less than happy.
In selfishness and anger I will not abide nor reside.
No, never again.

I sing the sweetness of dying
Where fantasy and idealization
Lead to truth and desire for actualization.
Romance and passion are reality
If you actively choose them.

“speak to me of passion,
never settle for less.”

God that I may always remain
In honesty and possess the desire
To comprehend and nurture
My individuality and his, to feed
His passions with mine, to live
Furiously, grant me this.

Dreams don't lie, honey,
how soon is now?
Would you like to go to Vegas?

It would thrill me
If you said yes,
Somewhat relieve me
If you said no.

I should turn from you.
The thought won’t leave.
Speak to me in soft slow tones
Tell me to go.
I am afraid of falling.
The circumstance and you
Are not mine yet
I claim possession freely
With the cool confidence that lay
Sleeping all these years.
Ah the things you see
No other has gleaned.
Tell me to go
Now before I fall further,
Before I touch your skin
Again and know desire.

Too late.
Only one thing holds me back.

My heart is full.
Of dreams
I will fulfill.
One is you,
Another you feed
Each day
As you read
My soul.

You’ll save it for me?
You’ll save it for me?
Ah but I adore you.

In the analysis of the anxiety, the subject is able to identify its source as the lack of a clearly defined role. In identifying the lack of role, the subject further understands this as an impediment to the natural development of the relationship. Having identified chemistry and compatibility, the subject finds interest in moving forward, but cannot. The subject should feel insecure in the anxiety of not knowing the outcome or not having obtained a point-blank admission or clearly stated intentions. The subject, however, is secure having simply identified the source of the anxiety. She is happy, and decisions are left for another day.

I want to walk with you in the sun.

After 16 years, it took her four months to come to conclusions.
Yes, it could have worked, but can you ask someone to change
Their character, intrinsic values of who they are?
Or do you leave to find someone more compatible?

I adore you.
I am
Quite taken with you
Goddamnit, I am falling more each day.
I am soft happy peach.

In words softly sweet,
Tell me
Everything’s gonna be all right.
Tell me
What’s going on.
Tell me
To mind my own business.

Gently of your touch I need
I want
To push you away.
I want
To flee.
I like you too well
Already.

I have faults
You need to find
Though I can’t list them.

I think of you too much.
My god you
Make me, you
Make me
Feel.

I am antithetical,
Weighing to extremes.
I am torn in complexities.
I break down into simplicities
And I find, still, I am happy.
You make me happy.

Trust can be a tenuous thing.
And if ever you doubted,
Don’t doubt on me.
I am unlike anything
You have known or will ever know.

I am not a real girl
I only pretend sometimes with frippery.
I grew by my own rules
And they have stuck with me.

Just know I like you, you.
And there are now things I will not say
Unless you ask them of me.

If I seem quiet today, I am inquisitive, mulling over the psychological ramifications of action and thought. My first instinct is flight. But I am happy, so I keep thinking and understanding my depths.

Intentionality.
Logic versus passion
And the heart that swears
In colorful spouts, the
Feel of the words rolling
Off her tongue feeling good.

To love, honor and obey. Honor is the word that haunts me. That’s what I’m looking for the next go ‘round. Someday when the wind blows cool.

III
No end in mind
Just enjoy the ride,
I’ll get there.
Don’t give up on me.
I take time.

IV
The carrion on the wall
And your work bench.
The work you put in to things.
You’re so cool.

V
I should have stayed hesitant to venture forth.
Her clothes in the closet struck me but lightly,
But struck me all the same.
I blocked their blow with a heart once gone cold
Now dripping in liquid mercury – alive.

VI
It was always dark, that house on the lake. Orange mesh blinds drawn tight against the sun. Stacks of magazines and chests forming walls. The cokes were cool not cold. They were kept by the case in the back behind jars of pickled okra and green tomatoes. Everything was always years old. The dust, the canning, my grandparents. The earth was rich with purple broccoli, blackberries, and vines. I would walk the lines just behind my father and his father as they spoke like men do. I would fall asleep after rounds of gin rummy and orange juice from my Fuzzy Wuzzy Wuz a Bear mug. I slept well at that house on the lake. Hard and deep but never dreamed. I awoke complete and whole, at peace. I used to dream restless in the house of my youth. The shadows forming. I sleep well in this house. Robert’s death built my fence. My father’s sweat and even more of mine put in to the walls and earth. For now, I am home.

I
I awoke
Looking forward to the day.
I wanted
To call, wake you up, ask if
You were
Dreaming about me.

II
I am excited.
You do not consume me obsessively
But intrinsically.
If I go about my day, the simple knowing
You are there comforts me.
This feels healthy and real.

III
From sunday, August 3rd, 2003 in a poem to myself, I wrote:

I Fly
Ninety on the highway,
Sixty in a forty, and
Forty in an ess curve twenty.
Windows down,
Music high,
I wanna drag it out
Till the engine growls,
High and mean,
Till the chassis shakes
And the tires squeal.
I wanna break you
Like a new toy,
Consume you
Like no other,
Bleed you dry.

VR Cowboy

Thinking her the artsy type, too full of what, but
Admiring her ink and style,
The Cowboy had said hello, doubting her reply.
The Princess had stalked him as best she could,
Thinking “hunting and fishing? Oh no…”
But she was flattered and intrigued
Coming back with a blush and
After a few pleasantries saying
“Would you like to chat.”
And they did. For hours and days. And they met,
The VR sparks coming alive, flowing over into
Green eyes flashing blush stained smiles at his blue.
She saw him in a suit, her jaw dropped divine.
He saw her in wind blown hair and he called again.
And the ink stained girl smiled.
Each had thought the other too different.
Neither looking for anything.
They had chanced to meet in a VR world of
Fingers fast flying and smileys of broad smiles,
Tipped hats, and an endless blushing and batting of eyes.
They’re days were filled with each other,
Their nights with themselves.
Only the honesty and openness between them.