Liar,liar
Name dropped into the eternal fire.
Step back,step back
I bow to my knees. 

Spitting venom at me for giving your art to your own mother's heart.

And the money on the table,
You took from another single mother.
You lied,and lured, 
cashed in,and destroyed. 

Awww,but you say it's for your clever endeavors...
I'll just sit back and watch the swirl of the leaves as I sip my tea. 

Oh the misfortune, but the deed is done by your own hands.
The promise of the ancient soothsayer can't be out run. 
He'll come a knockin'.

"Knock, knock."     
 "Who's there?"
"Guardian."      
 "Who is there!" 
"A Man"    
 "What the fuck? Enough with this prank.Show yourself."

Nothing...
Silence...
Endless rotation...

And this my friends is the story of an imaginary man, who preys on the vulnerable with his deceitful shams.

Rambling,gambling,
Stumbling,fumbling,
Over your name. 

Reckless,restless,
Heartless,helpless.
How long with so much pain?

Left in the dark, 
You extinguished my spark.
Yet I still sing our broken song. 

Tonight I’m embracing the unknown with arms wide open.

How long has it been since I last sat with my pen and paper, allowing my wild, reckless voice to guide this hopeless dreamer’s heart?

Don’t ever believe the Good Lord above leaves your side because that’s the moment you might miss the feeling of his hands wrapping round to pick you up and carry you.

The music playing in the living room sings a little sweeter, the chords drawing you out to the dance floor. Twisting, turning, the young girl you forgot existed-swirling in circles.

The dimples that cross my face creasing deeper than I can remember.

The open horizon I look out upon promises me more than the eye can ever see.

I am free. 

The chalk-white cliffs stood stark before me as I began the trek in this new foreign land. Warmth of the sunshine hit my skin. It was like a long drink of cool water after many months of living through the Pacific Northwest winter rains. The busy chatter of families and visitors surround me, bringing me a sense of welcomed security.

Yet, I couldn’t ignore the feeling inside of me that craves the serenity of solitude. Then I saw them–the words pressed into a wooden sign–

ALCOVE HOUSE (this way) 

In that moment the wind blew past me a cool, crisp wisp of air. Enough to raise goosebumps across my skin. I paused, the low sound of a beating drum in the distance. And then…

“Go…”

Was that a voice? I looked in every direction, puzzled and slightly panicked. What was going on?

There before me, centered beneath the towering pines, stood an empty path, free from the noise of the park. My heartbeat aligning with the cadence of the distant drum. I walked forward. 

I hate you for the time that has passed.

I hate you every time I see the moon.

I hate you when it snows.

I hate you when I hear live music, did you ever make it to your second show?

I hate that the smallest amount of devotion you ever gave me left me feeling weightless.

I hate you because sunflowers are ruined for me, but I can’t refuse to take their picture.

I hate you because you’ve ruined my poetry.

I hate you because I had to give all of your pictures back.

I hate you because I’ll never know how not to love you.

I find myself driving around the curves of Ridgefield and wonder if you once knew these roads so well you got lost in thought and forgot you were even driving.

Are these treelines and old houses etched into your memory and if so, could I communicate through past trajectories to reach you now?

That’s unlikely.

I remember I looked at you with sunglasses covering my eyes. Our eyes are the windows to our souls. I was too scared to show you that.

If I had, you would have seen a fire that burned so hot, and so bright, and so long for you…

Lose everything.

There in that moment.

Extinguished by my tears.

As winter moves closer she brings darker nights.

A time to rest and feel restless comes together in a dance, but there’s no certainty of who takes the lead from one day to the next.

If you were born under the approaching stars of winter, perhaps you naturally move through the dance steps with your eyes closed. With ease and grace.

You came into the world at her darkest hour, after all.

Maybe for your mother, you became her eternal bright light. Twinkling like the Christmas lights she forever hangs to drive out the darkness.

December nights come early.

💜 to my first born daughter 💜

The haze from the smoke turns the sun into a bright pink ball as it sinks below the horizon.

Scorching hot, the flames that burn in my lungs as I try to walk.

My eyes ache with the sting, but I’m trying to acclimate to the apocalypse.

The one inside my heart.

Oh, did you think I was talking about fire season? No, just the everyday hell you left for me.

Who is really kept safe in a nature refuge? Wild animals or the humans that visit?

The animals don’t recognize the boundaries. Humans create them.

The animals benefit from the physical protections. But it seems they don’t look behind, or too far ahead wondering if they are promised tomorrow.

I think the humans need the refuge much more to remind us that-Lifelines run through trees, And birds fly with ease.