When you left your room empty,  

complete with carpet indents from your heavy presence  

I offered up my vacuum to help erase any trace

of your existence.  

when you left carrying your heavy boxes towards your new beginnings,  

I offered to carry down the second load.  

when you left with a smile on your face,  

I smiled with you.  

when you left with your eyes fixed on the bright horizon,  

you never wavered,  

not once,  

to look behind you.  

you never saw our happy memories  

appearing in the air.  

a colorful rainbow that appears from

the misty water of our front yard sprinklers.  

you never saw the potential

our future had  

you drove past the possibilities like a patch

of wildflowers on the side of the highway.  

pretty enough to glimpse  

not enough to stop

and admire,  

not enough to stay. 

you never saw me waving wildly  

in the rearview mirror, until you were nothing more than a mirage  

a blurred, barely there picture  

on the border between the road and the sky. 

I returned to your empty room where I gave you  

Everything, my vacuum, my help, my smile  

the approval and acceptance that you asked me

to give unconditionally, I gave.  

I remained just there, at the beginning  

surrounded by the bouncing echoes of

the nights that only the walls heard,  

and the damn carpet indents,  

from when you stayed.

The winter day drifts, 

I feel the wind on my face, 

and wish you could too. 

- I miss you. 

I want you to ask me for more,

beg me to fix

all my nasty habits that silently

scratch at your mind.  

Ask me to be nearer

so you can crave to be with me,

in my space,

without any objection.  

Ask me to wake up

later so that you can sleep in

when you wake up in our bed,

beside me.  

Ask me to dye my hair

a shade of dark brown

then I'll be exactly,

your type.  

Ask me to make myself into your

everything so that

I may finally deserve,

your attention.  

You are my

solid ground 

A place through

which to walk 

After an impassable

storm 

Flooded my coast 

And swallowed my towns 

The inhabitants lost

never forgotten 

Cement paths

A brick road 

The mud dried, cracked,

scarring my avenue of broken dreams. 

I decorate my skin in different

shapes and ideas, 

I suffer the sting

of the needle trapesing in and out

of my skin like a dancer angrily pacing about their floor of stories, 

I bear it all because

if I write down a million different

stories on my skin you'll see less of my own. 

Less of my flaws,

less of me and I feel...

prettier… more interesting maybe. 

I feel that once it’s there

the ink swims through

my veins and it becomes my own... 

My own skin glows like

glittering scales of koi fish

underwater on a warm summer's day 

I smell as fresh as a hibiscus

Flower, like the one I encountered

on a brisk evening stroll in France 

I am as wise as the memorial

script on my shoulder blade

that keeps my grandmother close to me 

I am as free as the Sparrow

forever caught in a

free dive on my bicep  

I am as courageous

and brave and infamous

as the glimpse of Icarus on my arm.  

And I'll add more stories

until they are all that I am and then

I will control what you see

what you see will be me. 

Crouched low in the shade

of the sturdy willow tree  

Given silence by the

curtain of hanging leaves  

I sit, I wait

my bow and arrows laid

across my lap like

a faithful companion,   

With the gentle

breeze whistling

through my ears   

The warm spring

heat gently caresses

my cloak laden back  

I am perfectly content to

die in a moment like this  

For as many wants, needs I may have,

they never seem to matter

in moments like these.

I wish in the thunderstorm of your heart, 

That from the creation of your mighty storm, until

its wind-worn and rain-battered end, 

I wish that I will bear witness

to all your destruction. 

In the darkening sky, amongst the

twisting of bright clouds,  

and when it begins misting upon the ground. 

The first falling of rain, gently  

painting the poorly maintained pavement, 

I wish to be with the rouge poppies  

That valiantly rise through the cracks of

cement, just to get a taste of your lovely tears. 

Murderous whipping of wind,  

tearing and biting at the flags ripping through the black sky, 

The abandoned streets running rampant  

like a rising river that none

should ever dare to cross. 

When that mighty storm meets its natural end, let me steal

the honor of warming the skies like a midday summer sun,

I will provide a soft guiding light, a billion times brighter 

Then a high arching rainbow from the reflection

off the broken glass of a thrown and cracked picture frame. 

Tall oak tree standing

alone in a field 

The sleeping man  

tucked away into the enclosed

arms of the shade 

Comforted by the

cool hug 

Alone above the ground but 

Crowded by the souls underneath it.