… embrace it

 

… discovery of self is a lifelong process—ever-evolving and always in motion—but actually exposing your true self is another matter. It takes courage for people to be themselves; a degree of defiance to really be an individual. It’s a scary thing to be human. We have to accept what others would view as imperfections and flaws and own them; believe they are beautiful and worth being shared.

Sometimes we’ll dive into the depths of personal expression head first but in most cases we’ll step to the edge, be intrigued by how the jump may feel, and still need a little push. It takes a special person to want to be different and to be it shamelessly. But at the end of the day, there has to be an ‘Aha/Fuck It’ moment—vulnerability has to win …

 

(En)Courage

 

a medley of tobacco

pussy

and tequila

dance on the stage of her tongue

a rhythmic threesome

leaping from one taste bud to another

frogs on lily pads

 

her breath smells of exploration

freedom

 

for years

she’s dreamt of what it would be like

wondered how she could

miss something she’s never had

need something she’s always lived without

want something she couldn’t define

 

under-aged and over-proofed

they met by chance

uncertainty and liquor introduced them

but the gravity of their loneliness

created the first kiss

 

sparks of released inhibitions flew

it was

the genesis of her true being

 

 

** I could speak at length about the subject of sexuality and its many correlated topics but I won’t. I will, however, acknowledge this – everyone has and is entitled to their own understanding/belief of how it all works, accepting what they will and please.

… the world is still young …

 

 


… vanity fare

… some pieces just resonate on their own …

 

 

Vanity Fare

 

Her very insides tear

As he invites himself into a place

Not even she knew existed

Into the dark cavity of her soul

Where hate has been seeded

And hope won’t stand a chance

He penetrates and darkness spreads

Overtaking her world and mocking the fight in her

Garments rip

Exposing the pure flesh of innocence

He tastes her scent

From the cup of her collarbone

And his saliva burns as it evaporates

The look in his eyes

Damages the place in her heart

That would ever allow her trust another man

And love,

It will no longer live here

With each thrust

He steals a piece of her

The dignity

The confidence

The strength

Pieces of self she struggles not to feign

Struggles to make truth of

Underneath the cold steel bones

Crushing her spirits

He diminishes her

To an icy river of tears

But she fights

As flesh mutes cries

Until there is no more room for him

Under her fingernails

Until there is no more room for him

Inside of her

And everything goes numb

 

She never imagined the world would go silent

The second she screamed her loudest

 

He probed her enough to impress upon her

That ugly things happen to deserving people

And with that

The notion of self-worth escaped her

Stripping her of the ability to see her own beauty

Birthmark and quirkiness alike

Now she spends her nights

Cowering before the vanity mirror

Because when she shuts her eyes long enough

His face appears

And sometimes

In her dreams

She watches him

As he invades her being

Limp arms still pinned above her head

She searches for truth within the looking glass

For a bit of self still worth loving

And for the hope she knew of and used to believe in

When she was still the beautiful little girl

That died in that stranger’s arms years ago

Before the world became Dark

 

 

 

 


… tuesday morning

 

… nine-eleven-two thousand and one. Where were you? 16 miles away, sitting in an 8th grade math class, all we could see was the plume of smoke.

… attention all students, staff, and faculty …

… please report to the guidance office if …

… we don’t have any more information …

… everyone else, please carry on …

Radios crackled into frequency and panic flooded the rooms, bounced off of walls, bombarded eardrums. TVs were wheeled into classrooms, the cafeteria, anywhere and everyone gathered to watch as terror struck a nation. People ran, screaming through the haze of residue, sirens blared as rescuers disappeared into the chaos—and then the first tower fell.

Somehow, the world went mute. Or maybe just the TVs did. Either way, everyone’s history was changed forever …

 

Final Flight

 

an explosion of cries

heard around the world

with an echo of laughter audible in the background

without warning

you evaporated into eternal ashes

a cloud of dust seen from miles away

one by one

you all held hands in the sky

as you watched the world of terror beneath you unfold

you didn’t have time to say Goodbye

no I Love You’s before the walls and floors crumbled

the fire swallowed everything whole

mixing you with the bodies of those in the other tower

and the passengers on those planes

collapsing everything into a pile of

newly tangible lost dreams and battered souls

you danced with raging flames

if only for a second

before you became the very air that we now breathe

lining the lungs of those

no longer scared to inhale and take a breath

the weight of the dead is heavy

yet easily carried in the wind

to be taken in by the melting pot of Americans

and to cross oceans reminding nations

of the casualties of war

 

 

 


… chances are

no child left behind, a fantasy notion. Laughable in any of its intended meanings because there is always someone left behind or left feeling as if they have been. It’s one of the many unfortunate truths we learn to accept as we grow in life, as we experience. But when the subject is in fact a child, all they know is that they’ve been abandoned—forsaken of love, of chances, of answers. All of which are searched for in made up places because something concrete is always missing, be it tangible or not.

Babies don’t ask to be born but so many of them have to beg to be regarded for more than just a moment once they are. Too many struggle to be better than the people who leave them feeling the emptiest, to be better than the person that left them stranded …

 

Life’s a Gamble

 

To him

The moment of my conception came and went

He came, then went

On with his life

Cycling through the nights

Nothing from yesterday in today

Only looking to what’s next for tomorrow

But for me, that moment created a lifetime

One full of many lies

And just one truth

Daddy didn’t want me

He gave up on having a Daddy’s Little Girl

Because his not-so-Pretty Women

Called him Daddy all the same

But their minds were different

And some brains was all he wanted

Too many blips on his radar

For him to realize that the one related to the focal point

Is fighting to be somebody

He traded kindergarten graduation

For a pair of dice and some measly chips

Because despite loving to gamble

He wouldn’t take a chance

At ending his life for another one he created

I wasn’t worth one of those

Slot-machine pennies

I only got a BlackJack’s hit and split

Double the ante on anything

That could possibly pay off

More than having a child

Like standing on the same corners

Of the neighborhood blocks I avoid

Selling women and drugs

To dumb boys

Whose fathers never taught them a damn thing either

Except that empty promises and unborn memories

Taste like rejection

And undying love and selfless sacrifices

Sound more like fairytales than the lives we live

So

While the world is feeding its abandoned babies

Spoonfuls of falsehoods

My undeniable truth

Is clinging to my heart

While it tries to forget that

Daddy didn’t want me