who made first choice
unknown to me
was joy in attendance
not mine to imagine
here we are
discretion owned
lament for freedom
gifted purposely
easing into lukewarm
like a wet sponge
ignoring the scent
empty containers
that hide contents
senselessly collected
nourishing faux abstinence
steeped in cursing tirades
wrapped with thankless demands
I’m easy to dent
it may have always been this way
walked through, left open, slammed shut
a forceful punch puts a hole in my core
no easy way to patch, it always leaves a scar
now unhinged and homeless
searching for a way to re-purpose
table to eat upon
desk for recording history
bookshelf of others’ stories
or
filled up and left solid
she cloaked herself in scarlet
darker than a blush on cheek
left his scent on empty heart
drifting to a shadowed street
not looking for salvation, but
respite from the lonely storm
they bellowed loud as thunder
claimed they’d no other harm
his promise was always empty
to others’ lives he did belong
wept herself to sleep at night
dreamt lovers wielding stones
they talk about falls from grace
but not the fall from your eyes
what if being invisible hurts
sometimes i fall off the edge
the very edge of the earth
then i dream a school girl dream
you are standing in the room
where the party will commence
surrounded by smiling faces, but
no one sees me standing there
like a simple wallflower
i am always late to bloom
i remember growing up as an only
was for just over eight long years
the other children were an oddity
lack of interest brought forth tears
all my toys i kept pristine, for them
brought out when they came to play
i believed they would enjoy them all
even so, they never chose to stay
adults in my life another mystery
so they taught me to read at four
kept feeding me books in my room
the quiet little girl behind some door
wealth of friends on my nightstand
but with whom could i play a game
too busy having grown up parties
most of them didn’t know my name
they tell me i am a grown up now
these silly worries are in my past
so i dive in to play with kids if i can
because they invite me at long last
adults stand by and stare at times
they think this a very strange trait
those that never sat on the sidelines
can see no reason for an only’s fate
voice has lost inflection
eyes are suddenly flat
listening to an empty room
scent dry, stale, musty
feeling like an empty cocoon
hanging from limb by a thread
Awoke this morning, to my surprise
I had stumbled off the map
hiking along an empty trail
feeling isolated and ignored
connections like shattered glass
shards dangerous to the touch
fractured language as broken tree limbs
not strong enough to hold me up
in a foreign land, likely misunderstood
staggering along in my obsessive loneliness
the breeze pushed through my thoughts
ruffling memories like leaves on summer trees
I have been here before
pride strewn upon the ground
prostrate before you, hands stretched in offering
while crying out over my abandoned valley
from the highest pinnacle of my solitude
knowing, trusting that you are in the echo
