Little Bird Poetry

 Is it too much To want to breathe the air inside your lungs  To have the over bearing desire to want to place myself under your skin Like an itch you can’t scratch Is it too much To want to hold the sides of your face Look into your eyes and see the time gone by reflected in one And the time I’ve missed in the other Is it too much To look back and want to squeeze the life from the memories we share Not through a text But to go back and actually be there? Is it too much To want to go back  And erase the earth that I’ve left scorched To be seated Watching the sunset from the porch Sitting amongst the slivers of the summer air  What I’d give sometimes to go back and be there What is it  That I’m supposed to do Is it too much To be so torn about these feelings for you?

 The Deep South, hot, humid and unforgiving, You can see it etched in the faces of those born here, In the face of the farmer, who worked beneath his father and the one before, In the face of the pastor, proclaiming his faith and preaching it out upon his weary congregation, In the face of the grocery store clerk, emptying buggies, greeting each person they meet, In the face of the hardened labor hand, working hard so the mother of his children at home doesn't have to, I see it in myself, In every mirror that hangs in these halls, The lines etched in the same places,  Those of worry, those of fear, those of disparity,  Those of laughter shared, smiles that never quite faded,  This land is tough, so is this town, Each and every one that comes and goes, Yet, it feels so foreign to me. My hands are no longer calloused and rough, The skin on my back has softened, My skin glows white like the moon, Instead of reflecting a tan from the hot summer sun, I am from this red cl...

 I stare down the same oak tree that has been imprinted on my earliest memories, I've watched it through the seasons, Lush and green, Barren and brown with cold wind moving it's branches, I have seen many a "Car for Sale by Owner" parked in the shade, Lemonade stands, Yard sales, Even trucks with the bed down, holding a litter of puppies, "free to a good home", Men, women, children, Hundreds of faces, People who make up the blood and backbone of this tiny town, All have come together beneath this tree, I see it everyday now, Like a checkpoint, A save, I've made it far enough to see this tree, That has watched three generations of my family drive by, I wonder if any other of them notice it, This old oak seated by the intersection of railway and roadway, Just down the road, From my grandparent's home, The one where my aunts grew up, Where my father picked up my mother for their first date, Right down the road from the first double wide that became the ...

 My the blood in my veins The same that snakes it's way through my heart How could you You would set me alight Only to step back and watch Reminding me that I am the one to blame  For you flicking that match Like a cat to a mouse Not stalked by necessity Waiting for the perfect moment To dig your claws in Not to kill But to toy with Toss And break No one feels bad for the mouse No one wants to stop the cat For every person I went to Limping, unable to ask for help You followed close behind To distract them from the atrocity To push and purr your way out of responsibility  For who blames the cat When the mouse carries alone the stigma Oh the mouse, wild, dirty, misplaced only by the fact it is in the house The mouse could carry disease, oh yes the disease will spread, Look at the blood pooling between the teeth as it gasps for air, It must be harboring something, Who blames the cat? Who blames it for doing what most people think is natural My life a game to you I am far ou...

 The mountains are so beautiful this time of year As I watch the sun behind ride the horizon The highway is quiet As I feel the cold air from the crack in my window I’ve been a long time gone And a longer time to where I’m going  When an old feeling washes by Like the fading colors of the Pennsylvania sky It settles deep in my chest Warm like the embers of my mother’s hearth Old yet familiar  A sense of peace blooms from my sternum So out of place from where I currently sit A passing yet raw feeling of what it was like to have someone there Someone to share moments like this How long have I been on the move now Place to place  Without that sense of feeling safe This emotion greets me like a lover I no longer know yet someone I also have not met Maybe it’s the time of the season And the snowy mountain roads That brings it back to me That sense of being loved and knowing that everything is going to be alright I try so hard to be present with it Not knowing how long it ...

It’s not that I don’t trust you It’s that I simply cannot I am so sick of being the one who bares the weight of dragging your body along I have been deprived of being a mother My womb is not built to carry But that is not equally balanced By having to raise another woman’s son Of whom is already fully grown I do not want “maybes” “mights” or “some days” I want to sow the seeds with someone who is equally willing to bare the weight of the planting  So that I do not stand alone in the harvest

 I am no dog. I will not wait for you. You are not a master for me to serve, You were never one worthy of my companionship. I followed you until my feet bled and my muzzle was bloodied and torn  Until my paw pads raw Until my throat hoarse from barking your name  Whining screaming crying and howling for a man who was never worth a whimper Fuck you Fuck your sweet words that turned from honey to syrupy arsenic You are so fucking incapable of loving anything beside your own fucking self Your pathetic excuse of self worth that balances solely on the reflection of a mirror instead of who you actually are behind that thick wall you call a face Not only did you lie But you fucking cheated You cheated me You built a future with your words that your eyes knew they would never lay upon You sold yourself to me as a man worth your weight in gold Shame on me for not reading the fool in front of that One of the few I was ever fucking dumb enough to let close I shot myself in the foot ...