And i heard you When you said you were done You can think and say what you like Its okay, for you to be done Because I’m not done And since i’m not done We both can’t be done

  it won’t be anything you say, or your off brand jeans, this place is a certain kind of killer and, intentions not withstanding, you look like chum. your slick hay colt legs will not avoid carefully placed stones of unimaginable consequence, and there will…

HOUR 2 Coming from a country with no time changes – a strange notion, I always forgot. Until – The choir was strict, about timeliness. A Sunday in April, I rushed in. Proudly stood in front of a full church, wondering why the choir hid…

What do you do when you wake and learn you’re a deer, the tips of your racks scabbed, your tan hide nothing like the crow’s sheen? You can’t pinch your hide and wake — your hooves can’t pinch. Smells glow in your nose like they…

Prompt Two – Text Prompt: Write a poem from the point of view of yourself, ten years ago.   Age is just a number right? What have I accomplished? How can I be this old? Is that a grey hair? Why does my back hurt?…

Fire blazes on the surface of the moon Moonlight flickers with oranges and deep reds  On the wildflowers sprouting around me At incredible speeds The stone surface of my altar Burns with an energy That could heal the sick Or end them An energy created…

Painting the picture Having those crazy thoughts wondering if I am going to make it. Not wanting to run lose Gaining control of all the pain Wanting to lash out and cry again. Letting all those feelings slide I woke in panic that I didn’t…

Change in a Decade I look down the corridors of time. A decade ago, my life sublime. Strong, no illness in this frame. School, work, family focus was my name. Illness knocked me over, out for the count. Blew away my dreams, now I live…

Dead Name two Write a poem from the point of view of yourself, ten years ago. They say that objects in the mirror are closer than they appear, But you are a blind spot filling my entire rear view. I know the texture of your…

Image prompt: gate keeper you welcomed me – somewhere I didn’t know I’d be lost to in fog and darkness comforting and yet something not quite right.   gatekeeper to what has never belonged to you to keep anyone in or out of… especially light…