Day 130 – Rocks

I know I am filling up my days
with rocks so I can
talk about how I stumble
I know exactly why each stone
is not enough

I sigh each time a pen
finds its way to my hands,
each time I lament out loud, “If only…”
and put it down
for another day
which isn’t coming

I know the fire is dead,
all smothered out
by the pebbles that life has dropped,
or so I have to believe
to keep on believing

I’m smart enough to fool myself,
busy enough to ignore
that there is a current running wild
inside my veins

and it is terrified that I
can’t make a spark

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Day 103 – Time to Be

I don’t notice the mountains anymore
though they’re right in front of me-

driving to work straight facing a miracle of nature.

I hear sounds but I don’t care
where they’re coming from,
I have time off but I don’t feel
much relaxed.

There are Christmas flowers, scarlet and white,
all dead in the window, still

and I wonder when it happened
that I stopped having time
to be.

Year 2: Day 143 – Sea Salt Bath

Before this battle
I’m taking a gorgeous sea salt bath
in farewell
to luxury.

A stranger passed through town this week,
he said there’s a war,
and I’ve known.

Salt tears dilute
and make me one with the sea,
a last baptism to bless
the road.

All the world of ease,
crystallized in memory,
poured, dissolved
to forgive me
for this town.

It’s gonna get messy
from here but
I can’t stay here,
I can’t stay.

The bathwater cold
and dead already and
I can’t stay here,
I can’t stay.

Year 2: Day 82 – I Surely Am Glad

I surely am glad
every thought that I’ve had
has been secretly hid in my head.

If a thought was a note
every thought ever wrote
would be easily stolen and read.

And just think, even worse,
tied in bags in the hearse,
every thought you had rather not said

would be read at your wake
for remembrance’s sake
to haunt you long after you’re dead!

Day 279 – Dead End Girl

Last end of all stops,
she’s a dead end girl,
at the end of the line,
in due time

Last stop on the line,
she’s a last end girl
finish line in time
dead last

If you got other roads
better go them first,
better take every byway you can

‘Cause the dead end girl
is your very last stop
is your end of the line
for all time

Day 17- Dead Ladies

In the numb of the hopeless nights
when it’s just saltwater seeping
without a fuss, like a lullaby,
the quiet’s the calm of it
but they won’t give me that.

Have they got some nerve
to be rolling their eyes
and tsk tsk-ing my pain
like I should call them when it’s over,
sitting there judging me.

Emily and Jane titter mercilessly,
poke and jibe, stick their barbs
pretend they don’t know
what it’s about
and thank the lord they never
cared so much.

Sylvia laughs, her brooding chuckle
cutting me down to shreds
though I think she has almost no right
and almost more right than anyone
to eye me with disdain.

And even Rosie in her red bandanna
just glares and disapproves
like she’s ashamed of me.

For my dead lady ghosts, all I do
to make them proud,
is just to wipe off their smirks
and have better things to do
than to haunt little girls
in their bedrooms.