My Dear Fear,

When the bell tolls do I answer the call? When our lips touch does it mean I’m the object of your desire or am I walking on a high wire and blaming only me when I land in the den of lions below.
The Phoenix cannot rise when the ash is heavy, the weight of the buildings colliding, collapsing on a softened soul who only wanted to exist in a time a space for as long as she had control, which was not possible.
Why wait for the kids to be born for the family to leave to establish the role of the terminally ill the wasted life the fear factor the scare tactic the one to run from.
I was not to have
I was to hold.
I was too old
I wasn’t me enough to be accepted…rejected on the regular my aching achievements taken away all I worked for is gone in a day with the wind in the depths of our sins and the weakness to which we subscribe.
I on one hand oblige, I walk side by side with the sky but heaven doesn’t appear to my eyes there is no space to connect the two. Sky fitting heaven, weakened and beaten but how can I attach to a world that has discarded me and told me I don’t belong here how do I hold on to the light the traveling of roads and being alone it’s too much on days and nights alone with my stash and a little extra cash from some savvy dealings.
Yes I am appealing but not to the right ones. Why can’t I attract better than demons?
The outbreak of a plague and the repercussions of 600,000 dead in the streets and yet I sit amidst my sheets and hide and wish to die quietly without fanfare or long drawn out goodbyes.
It’s the suffering of anticipation that makes it so unbearable.
For children for the grief I absorb and should push forth instead onto those who should own it.
I am not the one.
Rotating around an unknown sun…looking for my son in the light of summertime.
The Catskills shine and burn my eyes the mountains are watching, waiting for me to die it’s torture it’s torment but what can be done, when your time is up you just can not run.
Frozen, heart open but cannot move an inch for fear of being pinched hard by the universe and the depth of the thin lines on which I travel and wish for solid ground.
I want to be found…out here in the mountains where my family took bullets and then their own life and where do we go from there?
Watch the news read bad reviews of art you could never create. Like being a subjugate matter for the destined courts of judgement to decide on when and where I go or stay.
Is it a realm just next door is it a far off universe is it a black hole of darkness where I can’t I see my friends, my babies again?
It doesn’t work that way my child he said. He being the god of fairy tales and fantasy. She being the true mother of earth and the universe.
She is me
and I am she
and we are we
and god is only here.
I have the control yet I let it be in the hands of the lost and ones who are crossed along their own crucifixion and shame.
I will never change, a deranged beauty with a strong sense of shame but still must I die with this stain on my name?

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