Would Just

Thinking a lot about not fitting.

In place.

In arms.

In hearts.

How we say we’ll be happy if we “would just” …

We lose so much light in the cave of

would

just.

Would Just

You are

You would be

So perfect

If you would just

Adjust the smallest

Turn of your phrase

And the cut of your dress

Dress not for me

It’s for them

But so that I can see

See how much you could

Accomplish

Could if you would

Just attend

To the bends of

My will

Will you be available

Asking out of

Expectation

Not anticipation

Because the answer

Is no

Taking back you

For

I

Know already what I have to do

Who I need to be

Because that’s not on

Your list

Mind

So I persist

Me

And my heart

And my dreams

Fixed on our shelf

Because yourself

And your matter

Are what matters?

Time to scatter that

Shelf to the floor

Remind

I

Eyes to see and remember

The parts of me

that would

just

Make magic and

Absolution

Fulfill and

dissolution of fears

And defenses

Cause applause and

Reverence’s if you

I

Would just

Believe that

there isn’t perfect

If you would just

But there is beauty

And awe and

Spectacular love in

I

So if you

I

Would just

Trust

In me

That

Would

Just

Be

everything.

And I

I would just

Be

Perfect.

Drops

Traveling with family is soggy business.

It can refresh like spring shower. Urge forth blossoms and such.

More likely, it saturates.

The days drench you, and by nightfall, you’re ready to be wrung our because the weight of their water is so pervasive.

That’s horrible.

Yes.

I know.

I’m lucky.

I’m…

It’s ungrateful and selfish.

But it’s as real as the rain that keeps all of you in the room.

Because the stress of urban navigation and a morning of nostalgia and stairs wasn’t bonding enough.

Backwards, down into it,

With the teen who isn’t

And the grandmother who won’t.

In front but not in charge

SO GET OFF MY BACK!

Sorry.

I’m sorry.

Just…

I’ll figure it out.

Okay.

Wrong.

Let me try again.

Why won’t it stop raining?

Back Around

Back Around

I knew if I waited you’d come

back around

Around

out from the covers

you hide under

Keeping out the light

You said,

and I heard,

but then you went

back around

While I went forward

and forward and forward

And you were there

told me to go on ahead

you’d be

back around

You were there

behind

Even though you said

and I heard

Maybe I didn’t hear.

But you said.

Maybe you didn’t hear.

Behind the smile

Behind the tears

Water for another flower

Mistake for another night

Try as I might,

The strings pull me

Back around.

And I can’t find my scissors.

Use them on myself,

Cut it all to shreds

but god damn if I can

Slide the these threads

Between the blades

So I bring the loops back around

Knitting closed

the dropped steps

And hoping the stitches hold

Hooked

until I can bring myself

Back again.

Grow

I see.

From my planting in the weeds,

Growing.

Before my sight,

Beyond my reach,

Behind my back.

Rows of pretty maids

Reaching and sucking in

And blooming.

I’m still entrenched

Roots held fast,

Gnarled,

Waiting,

Drying and dead

Petals in the dirt that I sacrificed.

Giving back

Ready to nourish

For the next cycle.

And around me,

I marvel

Stalks and stems

smiling for the sun,

Craned and warm

Impervious to

Pestilence and pain,

Daring the rain to stay away.

My storm already came.

I gave over my water so

That I could see vibrant color,

Not live within them

Or them in me.

The leaving

Unused puddle

Around my core,

Sucking, seeping

To the patent veins

Still open to expression.

My acceptance of

Growth is gone.

I’m parched and starving.

But I can still smell the water.

The flood didn’t take everything.

It’s there.

I don’t have to beg

The gods for rain.

They have given.

I look at the gift,

Offered while I decay,

Dis-entangle and

Disappear.

If I can stand the summer,

Pulls, stretch, reach,

The corner curl of

Any petal

Any jagger

Any persistent,

Stubborn,

Un-killable cell

That wants to

Unfurl from the mud

After winter,

If I can be selfish enough

To take a drop for me–

I can grow.

Stay warm in the light.

Offer breath in exchange

For toxicity.

Be beautiful,

Not for what I do,

Or contribute over

Other cuttings,

But simply because

I am beautiful.

After Three

Stare.

Stare.

Stare.

Blink.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Drink.

Hot.

Hot.

Hot.

Sweat.

Cold.

Cold.

Cold.

Regret.

Tight.

Tight.

Tight.

Release.

Fight.

Fight.

Fight.

Peace.

Rise.

Rise.

Rise.

Admit.

Sink.

Sink.

Sink.

Forfeit.

Ache.

Ache.

Ache.

Sustain.

Love.

Love.

Love.

Refrain.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Collapse.

Crawl.

Crawl.

Crawl.

MIshaps.

Want.

Want.

Want.

Escape.

Skin.

Skin.

Skin.

Scrape.

Hold.

Hold.

Hold.

Hurt.

Hope.

Hope.

Hope.

Divert.

Look.

Look.

Look.

Away.

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

Stay.

Know Best

Know Best

No.

Do we know?

Heart screaming

Head calming nodding

Let the tantrum pass

If you give into her

She’ll never learn

No best

There are choices

Some better

Others dead

Paths

Different monster

At each end

Better if you know

Know best

Mother

Until you know

She doesn’t

Seen the dried tears

Painted smiles

Nothing’s wrong baby.

I’m just tired.

But you know.

Like she does.

Yes is not knowing

No stops the battles

Even if it starts the dying.

When you’re dead

Surely you know

What’s best

To keep living.

Until you know.

Heart will love.

Head will say no.

Keep knowing

That the hurt will pass

If the choice was right

Or not.

Another day to listen

Not know.

Know not

about tomorrow

Heart and brain

can manage

Not best.

But better.

Or

another day

To know another

Best.

Slide

Slide

The climb up

fills

every step seems

to soak up through

and build from the sole

to the soul

so that it’s not higher

but more than

greater

above a tally of

numbers

incalculable

What can’t be seen

or figured

when stared up at

from the negative

Equal and opposite

up and down

every contraction

a waiting relaxation

resistance

to elevating

The view from the

peak

mind piqued

that this is the same air

how

when it feels different

less pressure than

on the ground

that can’t be

The ground is waiting

to prove

the thesis

Up is fleeting

Down is stasis

The slide is

inevitable

Only friction

the coefficient

we collude

to ignore

or ennoble

Bottom collecting

its specimens

to return

to the path

For another climb