
Merry Christmas Eve –
My presence hasn’t been here for quite some time and for that I’m truly sorry, yet I know y’all understand.

Merry Christmas Eve –
My presence hasn’t been here for quite some time and for that I’m truly sorry, yet I know y’all understand.

Please don’t ignore
My heart
This love
Accessible and exposed
Without first
Commanding me
To leave.
Until then,
I am yours.

to be adored
needed
wanted
found
accepted
considered
tended to
obsessed over
delighted by
instructed happily
made priority
seen
desired,
to be one’s world

how can a poetess, such as I,
a writer of love,
her desire for it,
her continued search
of its perfection,
be asked to step away
from her attachment towards
its existence, so that she
might find her place in someone’s
world?
they don’t know me at all.

it is his love i seek
his attention for which
i plea,
my sun, all the stars
in my make believe,
are shining again,
i’m suddenly awake,
and know just who i need.

when he becomes
more than just a dream,
my heart will beat
the sound of a thousand drums
my soul will ache
with the clinching of needy fists
my mind will race
towards a feminine understanding,
and butterflies will
make sense again.
their existence
somehow unbelievable,
until then.

curvy in multiple places
my soft spots will be
a favorite
twilight peeking through
i do wish to be with you

Please,
just
let
me
lay
my
head
right
here.
I
need
you.

When did my confidence go to battle with my insecurities?
Why are they winning?
I know better.
I am better.
I will continue to thrive.
Go. It’s been done before,
I survived.
I would again.
Throwing a temper tantrum would never work.
Waiting patiently gets me nowhere.
Being my quiet self is far too dull.
All that is left is to use my voice, yet, the quiver I hear isn’t very convincing as I try.
Fearing judgment may keep me from the happiness I know I deserve.
Wanting to be a playground, but instead I’ve become too common.
Take what is yours, these words I hear constantly in my head, I used to believe they were meant for me to say to the one who truly wanted me.
Maybe it’s what I’m supposed to do.
Huh, it goes against who I believe I am, but being left alone is too.

Silence this mouth
With words forgiving
Shut my eyes
Positive images abound me
Steady these long legs
Upon fertile ground
Wrap my eager hands
Binding them in grace
Within attentive ears
Might music absolve; save me

Amidst the clutter
Of my mind
I recognize who and what I love.
Clinging to primitive, and desire,
I retreat
Into wooded respite
As I normally do.
Surviving reality
A conscious decision every day, yet
Eventually every tree will fall.
How do I listen for one more?

i imagine the comfort
like warmth snuggled in
under layers of protection
surrenderer me with victorious him
daylight taken with pleasure
my body with so much to give
leaves the master of my affection
a playground he accepts as his
a muse so confident
doubt unable to live –
stifled and erased, becomes
a union of dominion and submissive

Bundled ‘tween you
There’s no place I’d rather be
Pink glowing sanguine

Adorned, in verdant elegance
Care extended with his selection
Her spirit encouraged to thrive,
Wrapped in accessorized protection
Red, his jewel of choice

Needing to remember because every single person matters.
Wanting to forget because it hurts to acknowledge the fear this day created.
Knowing we are surrounded by bravery, men and women much braver than I, every day should humble us. Quiet the noise and ridiculous fighting our nation cannot get away from.
I am humbled.
Thank you.
9-11 changed us.
Lives were lost. Lives were transformed. Lives were offered hope. Lives stood in protection. Lives united.
We are a blessed nation every day moving forward. Never forget.


too average
too independent
too quiet
too far away
too serious
too cliche
too normal
too she’ll be okay

can I be the one nestled
emerging beneath
the grandness, of which
is your presence,
ever strong, ever true
humble, yet the perverbal glue,
guiding the brilliance
you’ve created in me,
a testament to you,
soul enchanting.

cool wind drapes my shoulders,
as thoughts ride tides too high
for a woman like me.
unable to reach, nor smell the
scent of a life,
only read about
through my hazel eyes
obsessing.
no voice brave enough inside
to share what I need,
see
even dream,
proves leaning on another to name
the clouds above me is selfish.
and the sounds of morning continue,
breezes swirl, leaves fluttering
against each other,
while ignited rain clouds grumble
along side today’s dawning.
grateful for the noise,
which drowns, for another day,
my inability
to offer what builds
inside of me, hoping no one
notices the girl hiding.