Our trinity

Misunderstandings, assumptions and lies. They are all the same unless you stop making assumptions that I understand your lies.

Dandelions in Heart Boxes

One might say I loved you.

Sandboxes and puppy paw print tires 

is what I remember of you.

Long hot summers spent splashing knee deep in plastic pools.

Cold winters spend building forts, 

bundled up so tightly we could spend hours out there.

I used to sit at your fence and have conversations with your dog, 

convinced he was the only one who understood me.

King,

Of the backyard you were.

I,

was your queen.

Delicate

Definitions divide the divine of what we desire.

Do not delegate your dreams under definitions.

You do not decide what you desire.

Denounce you struggle and discard your plan.

Don't you remember the first day we danced down the dry river?

Droplets of rain drained from the sun. Drenched hearts and delicate hands are depicted.

Delicate hearts we possess.

Dreamy days will drag out.

We are far more deserving than we deem.

We delight in our debt.

We drowned in our doubt.

For my Dad

The smell of tires and overheated air hits us like confetti pieces as if we've just won the Superbowl.

This is how I choose to remember you.

This was the beginning to our "adventures", hours lost aimlessly wandering down isles. The list mom wrote, neatly tucked away in the bottom of one of our pockets, whoever she deemed more responsible that day.

Our bellied laughs would bellow clear over the bird feeders, past the flannel lined jeans, and beyond the orange slice candies.

We taught ourselves a new language. One when spoken, always accompanied with a flimsy tongue. One when spoken to anyone but you was just babble.

In this place, we found life without a limit. One where dancing among the Harley Davison vests was acceptable. One where testing the army surplus metal helmets only seemed logical.

We found a place where you didn't have to grow up, time stopped.

For us, we found a place that created equals of us.

These memories, like words stored in dictionaries, are stored in the pages of my mind. On lonely days I visit them, flipping pages, finding your voice, your smile and your silly dance. They echo off the walls of my memories.
                                 and when I open my mouth to echo back it sounds like this :

                                                                Fli

                                                                            Flove

                                                                                                Flou

Since We Were Little

Sharp like scissors you cut her with words.
Your anger strikes her, but softly,
 But to  me they are far worse than the excuse.
Silence is your only excuse.
Please, remember her brown curls and baby face when you to to put her in your place.
Friendship like this is hard to replace.
Your feet have walked far distances we cant see.
None of us are what we used to be.
Feel, and don't forget.
For, sometimes, words unsaid are what we regret.

Thread

He spins words like thread,
using them to sew lies,
which he wears as his cover.
But don't worry,
I wanted you to spin your words into lies
I could use as my cover.

Fingerprints

Your fingerprints are all around me, making it hard for me to see my own.
Like permanent scars they define us, written in words we don't understand.
I could follow your trail from my hips to my feet, caught around my ears, they drift across my nose.
My own can be traced to the place where confusion starts and stops.
Secrets lie in their curves.
Stronger than their definition is our desire.
Fingerprints.

Apologies like Hymns

Lingering touch, you know far too much to mean nothing.
Your words are fatal, sucking me into the middle, driving their implications into my thoughts.
Labeling movements, define our lies, making false truths.
I search for you in my anger, not looking far, knowing you are out of my reach.
Our apologies like hymns are recited everyday.
Like fire in brush, this all happens in a hush,

Winter Night

Winter night of delight, why do you deceive me.
As morning breaks, dawn takes my last regrets.
Setting sun, let things be done, let your words not forsake me.
Drifting dreams,rip at the seams.
Our lies drift from the skies.

Deceived

That's all I was fucking waiting for.
How sad is it that i can sum you up in 7 words. My words, the ones you find weak, were right.
My words the ones you block from your ears, are going to be ones you will seek. I don't expect anything less than anger. I question my motive as well. I question what it will get me. Maybe just the honestly I was never given. Stop  my words if you can, but most likely I will burn you because after all ' I am to you like fire to a tree.'