Fly.

We go up, up and out.
Twisting and turning,
Falling and rising.
Draining our fuel to refuel.
Selfishly parting clouds in our path:
"Step aside thou fluffy pillows"
As we soar like birds through the heavens.
A weightless floatation,
A lightness of breath.
The sun rests her head on our back,
As ground below appears in gridded map.
Turbulent dreams have fleeting fear,
And calms as destination nears.

A lapse in time.

I'll keep you there

     running fingers through my hair

          blissfully unaware

               of the ticking clock.

Secrets Don't Keep

I feel the thunder as it rolls
up through my legs to my fingertips—

pulling me, unleashing me.

The rain melts its way down my back—

heavier, heavier.  Fall.

Crash! Crack!

Spit up the storm inside and

fill the room with rage.

The grey fog tumbles over chairs and books

pinching its way into crevasses

until you drown in it;

a burden no longer my own.

The storm is upon; best grab an umbrella.

White rope.

White rope of envy,

end me.  Pull me under;

drag me down.

Curse the sun, the earth,

this ground cold and wet.

Blistering as the deep red grows—

my eternal flame.

Shame, shame

that comes to those who hang.

Judgment.

Its hours away from Judgment Day,

as much as you pray you won't get away

from all the truths you pushed aside,

when you relied on lies to get by.

Uncommittable.

Presently, my friends regard me as uncommitted.

I dislike the making of plans or follow-through,

for it assumes a level of commitment I am uncommitted to.

Even when saying I am committed to uncommitment,

I show a level of commitment of the acute kind.

So, how to state my current obsession

with the spontaneity of unmarked minutes?

Just to call it freedom.

Freedom of the hour and days,

to meet friend or foe as I please;

what a happy freedom I dare not give up.

Recently, I must say, I am not in the slightest bit committed

to this word freedom and may be pleased to give it up

to lean my uncommitment towards

the committable movement, Love.

Welcome back old friend.

Shake you,

wake you,

dust you clean,

oil your corners and

polish you sheen.

Try out your act;

remember your tricks?

Nerves and anxiety—

‘til memory clicks.

A rush of adrenaline,

a crash and a thump,

now wind up your heart—

get out of this slump.

Save Your Breath

What's this—a peace offering?

Empty words to fill my wounds?

The patterned lines of plaid

could have seen this coming.

Typical.

Silence for months—for what?

To shake the rug beneath

when I started standing up?

Comical,

the way the threads between

your lies still hold,

but scissors I carry now.

Cut one and watch

the whole thing unravel.

Fall

you bitches and sluts,

you rumors and truths.

Unmask yourselves before

I rightfully call you out.

I'm not stupid.

I know—everyone knows!

Would be a naïve girl not to see

the veil is black.

And as the pieces of the puzzle fit,

what's this, what's this?

Save your breath and the white flag,

a war is served today.