Aimless

What can I do
to forget I miss you.
No one has an answer;
Not these books nor this brain,
not even the stars of the sky.
To say my tears fall like rain
is but cliche drama,
for they do not fall at all.
They just build up pressure
underneath my eye lid,
like a migraine for the iris
soon to be blind.
Maybe that is my answer,
to be blind
and shoot aimless arrows
at nothing,
as to forget my present troubles.
Now all I see is darkness
and all my worries are lost in it
and I wonder what else lurks out there.

Between the Clouds

In the air of the putrid morning
the smog crouches
behind the sky scrapers,
waiting to strike.
The early traffic is unaware,
eyes glazed, sucking starbucks
from their green straws.
Inside the walls of their cars they feel safe.
The smog eats exhaust.
I look down and soon all is white.
Above me, the marshmallows roll.
I reach out to taste it and imagine
the sticky sweetness on my tongue,
but it is too far away.
I feel safe like the people in their cars.

Fear

Fear stung me,
paralyzing what was left.
 Feet burning
on fire that you started,
blisters bubbling in defeat.
 Failure,
what I didn't mean to open,
like a box with pretty wrapping,
 you are the bow,
 tempting me to fondle you.
Tell me how I can stay,
rolling in the mud without a care.
This is easy,
but fighting you is hard.
You're in my mind,
speaking to the dark within me.
Drug dealing your way back in,
you come back at me with fire again.
I don't want anymore scars.

The Twins

 The taste of cranberry juice was on my lips

as we ran down the carpeted stairs.
My brothers smiled and giggled,
urging my mom to turn on the T.V.
Buzz Lightyear would be on soon.
My brothers’ happy matching faces
snuggled with me on the faded yellow love seat,
and I sat between the twins.
My mom’s face dropped,
as she stared at the screen.
The towering twins,
fiery and smoking,
stood tall, but shaking.
My face flushed,
and I gagged on the cranberry aftertaste.
Unaware, my brothers begged to change the channel.
Looking to my mom for hope,
I saw her gasp and gawk,
brow furrowed, lips pursed,
and I held tight to the twins. 

Constellation Eyes

I go back to that silent evening

when we were more than friends,
but less than lovers.
Outside, we stood inches apart,
gazing at the stars.
You pointed out Orion’s belt;
I looked, but couldn’t see the shape.
Wind gently played with my hair.
You calmed it with your soft touch,
tucking it behind my ear.
All I wondered was if you loved me,
but I just smiled and nodded
and stared at your brown eyes
that sparkled brighter than your constellations.
Night grew colder and I wanted to step closer.
You offered me your jacket
and slipped it on over my shoulders.