Wrong Way

Wrong Way

Raindrops hurl themselves at the windshield

The wipers race to keep up

Failing to, I squint to see the road in front of me

Monday morning

Driving the wrong way

Why can’t I turn around

Hurl myself at you the way the rain races to the ground

Why can’t I cry like the clouds into your chest

The comfort of your arms like an umbrella

Protecting me from reality

My blinker clicks in a mocking tone

This turn is one turn farther from you

One more turn the wrong way

Why can’t I screech to a halt

Spin back into your realm

Where nothing else matters

Where rain is a chance for a kiss

Where thunder is a reason to move closer

To feel your heart pound against mine

The road is straight

But I can’t see far ahead

The rain is in sheets now

Screaming at me to go back

But sometimes in life

You have to go the wrong way

To get to the right place

Escape

Escape

How long has it been
I refuse to count the days
I get lost in time
I get trapped

Why can't I just escape

Escape back to the days when all I had to do was tilt my head up
And I'd get a kiss from you

Back to the days when my giggles filled the room
As you tickled and kissed my head
Wrestling me to the ground

Back to the day when you were mine
And I was your's

Won't you be my escape

Puppet

Puppet

My heart breaks through my chest

My mind spins into a dizzy blur

My breath jabs at my throat

Why can't I stop from shaking?

Why can't I control my own body?

Tripping over my own emotions

I stumble to my feet

My limbs don’t answer me anymore

I am a puppet strung from fear

Insanity fills my veins

Dancing maniacally through my bones

Assuming position and taking control

Porcelain

Porcelain

A pretty face
A cute smile
Not a care in the world

Appearances can be misleading

To you
I am a porcelain doll
My eyes are perfectly painted
A beautiful hue that grabs your gaze

A perfectly placed drip of white paint
And my eyes shimmer
You see a thousand reasons to be happy

But maybe you're wrong

That white dot isn't a glimmer of happiness
It's the birth of a tear
That will eventually tip over
My porcelain lid

When the tear finally falls,
Then will you see I am real?

Will you see pain dripping from my open sores?
The salt of my tears burning my cut and broken flesh

Or will you think a drop on rain has fallen onto your doll
And simply wipe it away with the sleeve of your sweatshirt

When you notice a crack in the chest
Leading down into the delicate white lace dress I wear

Will you see my emotional pain transforming into physical pain?
My heart aching for a break
For one day without another problem hurled at it's glass shell
Cracking more and more

Or will you think it's a factory mistake
Your doll is perfect
Never in harms way

When you see my little arms
Sleeved in white lace
Held out open

Will you see my pleading
Begging to be held
To feel the warmth of another human
If I had knees I'd be on them groveling

Or will you see a perfectly constructed pose?
Showing off the detail at the waist of the dress
Making me seem welcoming as I sit on your shelf

One day
Just one
Take me down from the shelf
And hold me close
Wrap your arms around my little porcelain body
Finger the intricate design of the lace in my dress
Stroke my hair my golden hair

Then hold me close
And feel through the perfect exterior
The tiny heart struggling to keep beating

Ernest Hemingway

Ernest Hemingway

We meet everyday

Everyday you wear that same hat

Even on days when it’s raining

Right out side your window

You lean against

I stare at you

But you are captured in your book

You never look up at me

Or tip your hat “Hello”

It must be a good book

The tips of your fingers rest on your cheekbone

You must have read something

That caused you to pause

And you are still paused

Day after day

Never changing

Keep reading Ernest

Turn that next page

I can’t help but wonder

If you ever finished the book

Did you ever make sense of that line

That line that caused you to strike this pondering pose

But today Ernest

Today you are curling away from the wall

Your feet are in motion

You are halfway there

I want to tear you down

And let you be free

 So you can finally experience the world

As it is described in that line

That line that caused you to kiss your cheek with your fingertips

So long ago

Snapshots

Snapshots

I wish my eyes were like a camera

I could click a button and persevere the sight forever

A click at the way the steam dances off my morning coffee

Twirling its way up

And tickling my nose

And warmly caressing my cheek

Simply begging to be sipped

I could snap a whole album

On the way the frost crawls up

My window in the morning

It reaches its skinny crooked fingers up

Stretching and yawning

With the morning sun

The moonlight shining

On the drop of melted snow

Clinging the bare branch

One kiss of the wind and it would fall

I guess that's what memories are

The snapshots that are taken when

The poets are at their windows