Everyday Angel

I am an everyday angel.
Sometimes, I forget I am divine
I look over my shoulder
and do not see my wings.
But maybe that is my humility
Maybe it is how I earned them.
Because I don't rely on them
I could so easily take flight
But I stay grounded-
I remember my mission
I am to inspire others,
to push them higher
on wings of their own.

humility

I have the most comfortable blanket.

I almost threw it out a couple weeks ago, 

but I am glad I didn't 

I turn on the air conditioner in summer so I can still use it. 

I am afraid to let it go. 

I told it goodbye before I left for work this morning. 

In my heart I knew I'd miss it. 

Felt bad for leaving it behind. 

Still I closed the door and went to work.

I thought about it on my commute to the office

so soft, sincere, so quiet 

qualities I treasure in that which comforts me. 

It will be the last thing I feel as I drift off to sleep tonight

It will be the first thing I smell, when I wake in the morning.

It will always be there, just waiting

never needing or requiring or considering 

just comforting just existing to keep me warm

and to make sure my resting is better with it 

than it is without it. 

Tonight I spilled beer and cracker crumbs 

right across its spread. 

No judgement, it still held me 

and was fluffy and warm. 

I should learn to be more like my comforter...

who would of thought I would learn humility from a blanket. 

He took me with him

I removed my face mask as I entered the room

He knew he was sick, I knew he was dying

So I removed my face mask, so he might see me smile for him. 

He always loved the way my lips would rest like Cupid's bow

when he made me blush or told me a funny story. 

And now he lay there; so tired, confused at times. 

Asking me the date, about current events, or if I tried any new recipes. 

His appetite had diminished months ago, 

but I still brought him homemade pastries, all his favorite stews
and soft casseroles. 

He knew he was sick and
I hated feeling him dying in that lonely room, 

That clearinghouse for the nearly dead. 

I removed my face mask because his hearing was weakening

and it helped if he could see my lips moving when I spoke to him.

When I moved in closer he saw it in my eyes, 

he knew this would be the last visit 

I held him close and felt what was left of him

the 110 lbs that life hadn't managed to eat away. 

He was crisp like rice paper- He was just an envelope filled with bones.

And I cried for him, in his arms, I cried for both of us. 

And in his finale moments he comforted me. 

He sacrificed his remaining breathes to tell me it would all be alright

there in those final moments,
when his cloudy eyes went blank, I knew he was gone

and he had taken my heart with him

03.15.16

When my heart is deflated
it folds like origami
a delicate paper
with endless edges
to hide its center.
I light a joint,
Chopin plays
and the fury I feel
this fury that fills
will only reveal itself
in the words of poetry
that will probably go unread-
that no man may cherish.
But I keep recording
the details of my insanity.
Monitor the venom
that could easily decay.
Experience says to
remain as stoic as an iceberg
and be content when set adrift
and are left to battle rough seas.
So I remain as silent as my telephone
on any given evening
and prefer to let Chopin
speak on my behalf.
It is Tuesday night
and the lonely poet
tries to recall the moment
hesitation outweighed love

9:46

It is the moment I cling to
in an act of desperation
to take him any way,
that he is willing to give himself
it is the stomach cramps
that his absence will bring
it is the void I will fall into

It is grasping at straws
a resolve to bargain
if it means I wont be alone
It is the look in my eyes
as I pass the mirror
it is the revelation of self doubt

It is the analysis of my worth
the sliding scales of love
and attraction.
It is the wasted flowers,
the unanswered questions
the yearning to be loved
if just for a moment

It is the paralysis of rejection
the poison dart
that marries my vein
it is me,
it is me,
once again,
it is just me.