I notice things
I am a noticer

I see things
I am a seer

I feel things
I am a feeler

I express things
I am an expresser

Whether you want me to be
Or not

I’m sorry
If that makes you uncomfortable

But I can’t help it

~photo credit Tumblr

He Is

he is the tells me I’m beautiful man
the always is truthful man
the humor makes me feel youthful man
and his exuberance is contagious

he is the helps you fix your flat man
the tells me I look sexy in a hat man
the puts up with my brat man
and his compassion is inspiring

he is the leads by doing man
the eyes are my cueing man
the ideas are always brewing man
and his wisdom is humbling

he is the sheds a tear man
the holds my hand when I’m near man
the makes mistakes without fear man
and his strength is inspiring

he is the listens and hears me man
the promises are never empty man
the inside his arms is safety man
and he’s worthy of all I am

he is the helps me see clearly man
the gives love sincerely man
the walks tall and cavalierly man
and he’s my home


Crack open your ribcage
And let me crawl in
I’m so very lost
Where have I been?

I’ve stuffed me down deep
And I’m just not so sure
That the me on the outside
Is me anymore

My skin feels too small
And my head feels too full
My heart keeps on cracking
With regret’s constant pull

Crack open your ribcage
And let me crawl in
I’m so very tired
Where do I begin?

Let me lay down my head
And curl up in my smallness
Finding my center
The real me to harness

Let the ga-gong of your heartbeat
Cleanse my worn soul
Your thrumming my metronome
As I make myself whole

Would you be my chrysalis
As I slowly transform?
Breaking free from expectation
Becoming my true self, reborn

~photo found on Pinterest, Metamorphosis 4 by Christos -Optiknerve-gr on deviantART


Sappy tongue flitters
Dripping honeyed words

Hopeful heart grows wings
Once a flightless bird

Feeling freedom to anchor
Forming a knot of trust

Only to come crashing 
Disintegrating to dust

For, who knew behind 
Those words so sweet

Was the tongue of a snake
Ready to eat

-image via Pixabay 


Ain’t nobody celebratin’
No phone calls or happy wishes
No songs a’ dedicatin’
Or favorite dinner dishes

Ain’t no floaty balloons
No fancy cake with flowers
Just me, starin’ at the moon
Sittin’ ‘lone, countin’ hours 

It ain’t my favorite day
Reminded I was birthed and forsaken
So I use the 364 unbirthdays
To celebrate my makin’

-image from Alice and Wonderland via Tumblr; shared in response to the Mindlovemisery Menagerie Tale Weaver prompt, unbirthday; it’s not my birthday, and this isn’t indicative of my experience, just imagining how it might feel


am I invisible?

I suppose asking

that question is like

pissing in the wind,

when the answer

is likely to be twisted,

pointed back in my direction,

the wall of defense too thick,

when I’m left feeling peripheral,

in focus only when my voice is loud,

the squeaky wheel getting the grease,

a game of manipulation,

one I’m no longer

willing to play,

when my thinking of you

and hoping you’ll do the same

becomes inconsequential,



ash, blowing in the wind

-image via Pixabay, shared in response to Imaginary Gardens with Real Toad’s prompt, invisible