IRONY,SOBERING IRONY.

I find it ironic that we live in a world that screams for tolerance in every form, but is appalled and calls you a bigot when you exercise your beliefs.

Sometimes but Always

Sometimes I wish I could talk to you.

It doesn't have to be anything profound, but

I just want to tell you about my day.

Sometimes I wish I could hug you.

I've almost forgotten what it feels like, but

maybe I’ll watch a home-made movie with you in it and remember.

Sometimes I wish I could introduce you to the new people I've met.

I know you would like them, and

I know that they would like you too; everyone does..did.

Sometimes I wish you could answer my questions.

It would be nice if you would teach me how to paint, because

I have never met anyone as good as you were.

Sometimes I wish I could hear you laugh.

It would be refreshing joke with someone as sarcastic as me, because

I know you would understand my dumb jokes.

Sometimes I wish you could read my writing.

I hope you would like it, and

I'm sure you would be encouraging.

Sometimes I wish you could give me advice.

I don’t recall needing much as a kid, but

I’m growing up now.

Sometimes I wish I knew how our relationship would be.

Like I said, I’m older now, and

I wish I could be daddy’s little girl.

Sometimes I wish we could have a day together.

I wish you could take me fishing, and

I don’t even like fishing.

Sometimes I wish I didn't have to use past tense.

No one else notices, but

it tastes like medicine and burns like acid every time.

All the time I wish I knew why this had to happen.

I can breathe and live, very happily at that, but

often times those startling pangs of bewildering agony get the best of me.

Childhood and Waves

Every part of me is caressed by a foreign silk.

Salted water dances with my hair, wrapping it around my face as I open my eyes.

Even though my vision is twenty-twenty,

it is obscured by the refracted, twisted, and flirting light,

The waves bend the light like a contortionist.

The sounds reach my ears,

But they too are distorted.

They are nothing more than a muffled garble.

As I close my eyes once more,

choose to unheard all sound,

I reach an absolute peace.

I am in a peaceful limbo.

My body is relaxed as the substance surrounding it leaves it,

levitating.

Seconds pass,

My feeble lungs protest, begging me to unsubmerge myself.

Imagining myself as a mermaid,

I shatter

the glassy sheen above.

Road Trip

Our eyes uttered messages of sleep deprivation as they struggled to remain open.

Yours met mine.

They spoke of love to each other,

in the light of the rising sun that splashed colors of assorted hues against the ever brightening sky.

Your hands sang of love in volumes as they skipped and ran through my hair.

Our lips remained closed,

but out of the gentle stillness rang sentences of love that spoken words could not truly convey.