ICU Sonnet

Staring at the clock, I avoid all work

every single word slowly melts my brain

No A/C but the heater will still murk

As I burn in the sun, I pray for rain

It tracks my movement and follows my steps

She looks damn good in a cheetah print dress

They for hire like pharmaceutical reps

My brain melts out my ears and makes a mess

Your voice is like sand that’s stuck in my shoes

Your smile is like a parka in the sun

She likes to booze cruise and choose to lose

Choose the new and I parked her in the sun

Towering over like dante’s inferno

My body expires, word eternal

Kangaroos can't hop backwards

"Kangaroos can't hop backwards."

The words came flying out of his mouth.

As he picked only the green apples "Because they make better pies."

I look at him with glowing eyes and say

"I didn't know that"

The next time we meet is at a pool.

He is embraced with flotations devices.

As his mother puts them on he fights to get them off.

The plastic hurts his sensitive skin. 

once in the pool he bobs around like a

sealed bottle in the sea. 

The last time we meet is at a dinner 

to raise money from him no less. 

I look around and become puzzled.

There is a sea of puzzle piece name tags

I don't understand why it's the symbol for autism.

Because Ethan is not puzzled he knows exactly what he wants. 

 He wants a green apple pie and to swim unaided.        

 

Porcelain (Nothing to Break)

A dollhouse sits inside a pretty white room.

a pretty little girl with pretty little curls,

plays dress-up in a tiny floral costume.     

She is rigid, with a choker made of pearls.

Her skin is soft without imperfection.

As white as snow and as fragile as glass,

no wonder she receives all the affection.

She regards herself as a “woman” of class.

But how much empty space is inside her head?

Glass slippers and red roses mean nothing.

If air fills her body, she is better off dead.

How is it she remains stone still and blushing?

The pretty little girl can break because she’s hollow,

I beg of you, please, resist to follow.

Treehouse

To me, the tree always seemed lonely,

the gaping hole in the leaves above.

And for that tree I wanted one thing only:

a treehouse to be filled with love.

As a kid it was my greatest desire

to rein, up in the whispering leaves.

For so long my passion was a great fire

and why I’d pretend, hiding high in the eaves.

Alas, I never got my own treehouse,

a place where I could always be free.

Instead I would play with the field mouse

and all the creatures that would come to me.

Now, fully grown, that tree seems less gloomy

‘cause that hole seems a whole lot less roomy.

Mom

Mom

You want to know what?
I hate you
I hate everything about you.
You try so hard to kiss my ass
to buy my love
but it won’t work.
I found those little white pills
with the 30 on the top hidden in your room.

I know your stupid secrets
those men every night
weren’t friends.
That white powder was never sugar for your coffee
and red eyes never meant you had an infection.

I’m sick of you
you made my life hell,
you destroyed me
sent me to bed crying
wondering why you neglected me.

Remember that day in the court room?
You wore a dirty green wife beater
tan baggy shorts
and had that all to common
eye infection.
that day I got on the witness stand
and finally told you goodbye.

You sent me letters after that
everyday for a year,
obsessing over colored paper.

Telling me you love me,
you miss me
and your sorry
but do you want to know what?

You never missed me,
you missed the child support
drug support
ha,
you were never sorry
you’re a God damn liar.

You left me,
over and over again
each time breaking me with those letters
“I’m clean baby” “you can come home now baby”
saying “I’m better now”
once with a picture of yourself.
Eyes sunk into your head
skin tinted green
you are NOT clean.

I never answered you
but I kept every letter
even that picture
all hidden in my room
my secret.

That way I could never forget what you did to me.
Leaving me to raise my sister and myself
holding her, rocking her until she fell asleep
Ingnoring the seemingly endless screams from your room.

I will always remember why I hate you
so I will never again fall
for your lies
your manipulation.

I will never forget who you are, mom
I will never forgive you.
I won’t let you buy my love,
or my forgiveness.
But I’ll let you kiss my ass.
I’ll let you buy my attention
with clothes, restaurants,
and that crisp 20 dollar bill every week.
For one reason,
I miss you.