This is not going to be elegant,
nor polished, as sliver spoons...

I've scraped surfaces
of what needs to be...

Acidic revelations
dance upon crystals...

Hello Mom P-
It's been a year and ten months...

A mother holds her dying child in her mind,
heart and soul...

I'll Return to Mother Earth
toil my hands within her roots...

I go to a place where
dreams criss cross...

Expressions rage cross my face
while fingers tap away on counter tops...

She lurked behind corridors
disguised as a queen...

My soul has become parchment paper.
Frayed, around a silhouetted frame...

As he lays beside me sleeping
I can't help but feel so helpless...

Jewelry jumps in his jacket of joy
jolly jokes jive from the jaws of a boy...