post-a-poem 12 {2012}

there are many reasons
why i have not been
where i am supposed to be

ribs simmering in the slow cooker
brown sugar and barbeque sauce
thick and red and bubbling

a trip to mcdonalds for salty crisp fries

fresh raspberries and a big box of ripe red strawberries

a torn open box of waffle bowls
"we haven't had magic shell in forever!"
taking a chance on the pink chicken bone ice cream

mint on my tongue
cold slide of the spoon
movies that they know will suck me in
worn thin blue couches
blankets and pillows
laughter and
kisses goodnight...

reasons.

post-a-poem 9 {2012}

in poem it out, we are talking about excavating 
and unearthing and digging
to find 
ourselves
and using poetry 
as a tool,
as a means,
using our history to bring forth words...


this is from 2010 
but when i read it now
i am back in the exact moment
in an instant.


the morning after you
set the fire
i sat on the
blue couch
and begged
God
{or someone}
to help me...
what do i do now?
what have i done?
where do i go?
give me direction
[my breath felt like an implosion
within my chest] [like fire] [like ice]
you sat in the bedroom above me
and drew scars
on your
wrists.

where do we go from  here.