Broken Pedestals

Don’t lose sight of the light.
I close both my eyes, but
Leave the third one open-wide.
Absorbing and Transforming,
Life is a canvas already been painted on; which color will you use to highlight the accents?
How many ways can I contrast the madness?
We are often too busy adding structure to the broken pedestals that once seated those you placed highly.
Deceived if depth can’t be seen without views of the horizon.
Still can’t hear me yelling – only seeing me naked.
This one really speaks to me…
Eye can’t teach them to listen.
Splatter paint like emotion wherever I go.
The world is my canvas. I create in the shadows.
Wash that mask, under that mask, beneath the skin.
Peel the flesh back like old pages.
This book is blank just like the canvas.
Invisible ink disguised as experience.
Squeeze the color out my veins, and witness the light ooze through pores.
Decorating the pews they are glued to.
Stained with the truth not illustrated on the glass.
Looking out the window is living in the past.
Breaking that window is living.
I’m breaking my silence how trees uproot sidewalks.
I belong in the street.
Driving myself crazy, playing hide-n-go-seek with self-identity.
Don’t be lazy.
Chasing my tears to the waterfall of my dreams.
Now I’m glowing..
I stay woke.


Someone to Scream for

Someone scream for the little girl inside of her.


Mothering everyone’s problems.


Yearning to be held by her own, and switch back the roles.


Life has never been easy.


She witnessed a life of rage.

Endured every form of abuse.

And is now her own emotional slave.


Someone scream for the woman she’ll grow to be.


3 little pigs, life doesn’t knock like the wolves, it continues to blow down houses but her foundation is strong.


She houses all the issues, she replaces their dirty laundry with clean clothes. As she tries forcefully feed them gentle honesty.


The little engine that could, pride and determination pushing her through college.


Someone scream for the wife, she will later become.


A heart filled with aches and stitches.

A nose accustom to uncensored scent of bullshit.

Emotions used for pleasure and ignored through pain.

Still she is enriched with hope, making sure no ill will is accompanying her.


Someone scream for the mother in the sister she’s always provided.


She’s just trying to find her self and profess good examples.

Allow them to recognize that she encounters obstacles daily.

Even through all the stress, she puts time away to listen.


Someone scream for the daughter she is.


This apple has grown beautifully, because of her family tree.

And although it may not fall far from the tree, she rolls and explores the grass engraving her own path.


Someone scream for the friend in her.


She’s building walls, while they’re caring less.

Allow her to acknowledge the ones around her are replacing each brick with trust.

That if she falls off her ladder, she recognizes the ones that catch her, before she falls, and if they miss….

Aid in cleaning her up.


Someone scream for this young lady, because she can’t seem to do it herself.

She has been so busy screaming for everyone else, she lost her voice, and her lost breath….


So scream to comfort her —

on her mission to find herself.