The world spins for you

When the world

seems, to be

spinning without you—

just listen

breathe and remember

the world spins for you,

as it does that perfect stranger

who too is listening.

Arms spread, eyes open, looking out upon Los Angeles shoreline.

When Butterflies Were Band-aids

Look me in my heartache

And tell me there’s a cure

When butterflies were band-aids

Where fact and fiction blur

Speak to me in virtues

The one’s I’m pickled for

When only field’s were diamonds

And playgrounds left you sore

Hold me in your sorrow

With hands so soft and pure

When bedtime meant tomorrow

Was absolutely sure

Hear me as the willows

Send shivers down your spine

When fluff was just for pillows

Where wonder’s in the pine

Sense me in my mourning

For those yet to be fed

When fear meant it was pouring

Where Rover was still red

Send prayers if you still got em

Though mine have long since fled

This well’s filled from the bottom

Where sailboats are led

Look at me lovely

Look at me lovely this here is I guess

a mixture of meanings which help to make sense

of the past which gave us nothing but suspense

with fearful longing and a mother’s defense.

Look at me lovely with eyes in full bloom

now imagine a child alone in his room

the covers are pulled tight warm as a womb

his head full of static his heart thumping doom.

Look at me lovely take into account

these present day feelings are years gone without

comfort or closure confused full of doubt

exchanged for composure now deep underground.

Look at me lovely two decades gone by

and please ask yourself to whom do you cry

an eye for an eye I used to imply

now I want nothing more than to sleep through night.

Look at me lovely with infinite jest

this smile is armor for that I confess

in daydreams I make up reasons quite complex

for nightmares which haunted that boy in his bed.

Look at me lovely it’s lovely in fact

walking down sidewalks avoiding the cracks

though sometimes it feels like breaking your back

the pain that defines us with love cannot last.

Look at me lovely with harlequin eyes

for we are not wells that dry up inside

and take with you this last line then decide

his failure’s your lesson, her nurture’s your pride.

In cold blood.

It’s people
who feel invisible
that do
the most heinous things,
and nobody
ever seems to know
who, what, where, when
or why such things could be done,
until after the fact
when there’s enough
evidence
to write a book in cold blood.

You can try but you just can’t fool kids.

You see,
the kid doesn’t forget.

Forgive, yes
but forget, never.

Kids don’t make the rules,
but they’re a product of them.

And no matter what you say
after the fact,

the fact,
is still a fact.

No matter how old you get,
respect isn’t due

remember,
it’s earned.

You see,
enforced respect holds no weight.

Power, yes
but honor, none.

Kids don’t make the rules,
but they abide.

They see,
and survive

no matter the so called times
that they’re raised in.

You can try, but
you just can’t fool kids.

No matter how old you get,
right is right

and wrong is wrong,
things never change.

Except for the kid,
you see.