for my Playa
I sit quietly and wonder why you are,
your need to cut so deep, leaving many scars.....
I've taken out emotion just to study you,
your thoughts, their thoughts, looking...
on how you do..
Hurtful, but still I'm stuck like glue,
a playa,
ha who knew.
The person I thought you could never be,
is laying in bed...staring at me!
Smooth words,
sweet lips,
gentle touch of your finger tips.
Is this all worth,
I'm sure it's not.
But play away,
for my own scars...
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Doubt
At first,
I wonder if I will be okay....
I let him work,
yes, I play.
He does the right things,
says the right lines,
digs deep.....
my soul he finds.
Too good at learning who I am,
I make sure...
that can't be the plan.
My defense is down,
I've let him in,
I think he's all about the win.
just the right touch,
I'm thinking this is all way too much.
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Here We Go Again: (
Baby,
you are my everything.
We laugh and laugh,
you make my heart sing :)
I'm so sorry,
I can't fix you....
I'm doing everything...
everything...
I have too...
Please I beg you,
don't give up...
I see my strong boy,
who has had enough,
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In The Mountains
The only sounds I hear,
a scampering lizard, an owl, a goat.
Every step is clear.....
my breath...
in my ear.
This mountain is cut by the rain,
paths made for water to drain.
Holes that house God's perfect pets.
Different colors of the years being wet.
From atop a valley so green,
cleansing wind for a soul to glean.
No more sadness,
just gifts I forgot to take.
Washing my sorrow.....
nothing fake.
Thank you for the beauty,
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Baby I'm Sorry
Mama is so tired,
our happiness in family,
expired.
Months and months of fixing things,
making sure,
all needs are met.
We are attached,
that is for sure....
your sickness...
no cure.
On the days I can't be perfect mom,
I'm sorry....
I'm soo soo wrong.
I'm tired baby,
it's not you.....
my job as mama is to fix.
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A breath....
I've stumbled around
inside my mind,
pieces of this woman....
I try to find.
Guilty I am,
thinking of man.
I want to go on
with my Independence....
I CAN make a life
with no one in it.
But the mornings
when I reach for touch,
I wake to find......
it hurts so much.
I'm not meant
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Reading my poems
I've always written what was on my mind,
spewing stories of that moment in time.
Each word written,
was painful and enlightening.
My truth,
frightening! !
As I cry through every poem,
about me...
wanting to roam,
there is something I have to say,
no matter what I do,
I'm okay.
I have my faith,
my morals to get me through.
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Coming Home To Heal
At first....home...so sweet,
funny...old friends you meet.
Living life and steam rolling forward...
oblivious to the life...you forgot!
There was a reason,
I ran like hell.
Get out of town,
and be well.
In my darkest hour
I wanted home...
not knowing the
devil,
smiled.
A year later,
it's all too familiar,
little,
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Wild Animals
When you look at wild animals
they are breathtaking,
so pure and natural.
If the animal looks you in the eyes
you can feel connected.
If the animal walks up to you
takes food from your hand,
you can feel trust.
When the animal keeps returning
for food,
you can feel needed.
By mistake
you take the animal home,
you can feel complete.
Time goes on
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Just when I Smile...
I get it,
you love women.
Sure...I am one!
I could stay in your frigid arms
as long as I want.
So many times I've said goodbye,
so so so many times I cry.
Back in your arms I always fall...
I meant it last time...
don't call.
Just when I began to smile,
you are standing next to me...
lifting that frigid arm,
sweet words...
again I am disarmed.
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