Glimmer, sparkle, distractions to a raccoon.
Are you more intelligent? Believing I'll fall for these old tricks.
Books tell a story. Poems share and evoke emotions.
Neither give instruction, both fill our head with ideas.

Walk with me. Be my right hand and old it when in need.

Straight and Narrow

Feet going one in front of the other, watching as the pass in a straight line
one continuous line. Then another pair come into the line of view. Words
are coming out of the owners shoes. No threat. Calm tone. Who could
this mystery voice belong to. The shoes begin to stray as his eyes move to see
her skirt flowing in the wind. He trips over himself as he goes to follow the show owner.

Her path isn't straight. Her feet wonder ever which way so so please.
Sometimes she tip toes, others a dance, some times she even rocks on her heels.
He stays flat footed. Planted while zigs and zags off his path. He watches her.
Longing for her feet to match his path. They over lap and moments but he's
memorize but her feet going where she so pleases. She moves with the breeze.

Drop the pages that seek a life
that no longer shows in the writing.
A made up memory. A dispassionate
trial that ended up being so filled
of an unspeakable love.
                                       Or was it a fantasy?

Chills that come crawling up your back, tingles creeping up the body
an uncontrollable reaction. Shivers climb throughout your insides.

History

Meanness is an every lasting continuation.
Women going against one another over their
own insecurities. Instead  of empowering one
another, we tear each other down internally.

With these insecurities we share with our fellow
girlfriends and these thoughts are tossed around,
spread to create deeper insecurities and hatred.

A glance of subtle once over, a look that gives chills
to the one receiving. One that has been perfected
through childhood, short and hardened in high school.
Then chilled in adulthood. No softness with judgement.

I believe in this, moments we share together, tenderness shared.

All of this makes up who we are. Can't you see it? Don't you

want to believe in what we were. Where we are? Come back.

This is where you belong and here is where I wish you'll stay.

Constantly replying that moment in my mind seeing you walk

away on that rainy night. Your shadow from the streetlight is

blurred by the puddles. What it could not hide were my tears

or your face filled with anger. I kneel begging still in that rain.

That girl will always exist in a part of me. Do you remember

her? Or the one who wronged you? I'm standing here as neither.

Gone

A storm comes in, leaving a wake of destruction
neither of them know how to handle to aftershock.
One ignores turning into himself and shutting her out.
She speaks more with no meaning behind it. However
the pain and hurt lingers in the air. It's suffocating.

His mind can't handle what is happening and only
knows to cut her out. He becomes quiet. Reserved.
No one can reach him because no one knows why
he has up these walls of silence. He seems content.
While his world is be shattered and falls to pieces.

Her mind races with each point connecting with
horrible instances. Nothing can stop them from coming.
It takes over ever part of her being. No action can be
acted out, no thought can be processed till it's written
down. The terrible thought that kills everything around.

The shock breaks. Leaving a quiet chill for the world
to come back. Staring at each other they can't even look
one another in the eyes. He goes to speak but she turns
and walks away. The silence is all that's let of their story.