April

Ants crawl slowly on the cold tile floor
of a place I’d rather not be
I watch them move somewhat pointedly but
in no particular direction
Disorderly confusion, actually
I am lost and searching
and they are lost and searching
over the expanse of marbled squares
for some small crumb to carry home

She

You tell her
she is worthy
and just because her dad left
and never calls to say hello
it doesn’t mean she is unloveable
And you dry her tears
and you say over and over
it’s all going to be okay
because you will be there
to pick up the pieces he left behind
Her tears, though dry
leave stains that no words can wash away
So you pray
and you love your little lonely child
hug away her doubts
seize every giggle in tightly clasped hands
and watch the sun rise in her beauty
And you realize
she is you

Gone

her pillow is her company
since illusion has dissolved
to reality
like darkness to dawn
an understanding
that you and she could never work
despite her desire
and she was forced to face
her neediness and loneliness
and in some instances complete lack of any sense of self so lost
she hates it all and how
you strung up her dead dignity
and let it swing in the wind to be ridiculed
she was alive
the girl who once colored rainbows in black and white lines
is unpacking dark emotions
this purge may not bring purity
but it has brought clarity
and she is glad you are gone

Random thoughts

Off the top of my head
I’ve plucked thoughts of laundry
dinner and love
how one is never done
one must always be planned
and one is never mine
at least not
to my exact specifications
and how all of them
begin with something clean
a cloth a pan a heart
and end up stained
dirty broken or burnt
and I am left to (with some trepidation)
try to get what’s dirty
clean again