100 Park Glen

I can still hear the creaking of the wood floor in the hallway.
The cabinets would squeak too.
And that hiding place in the closet! To this day I'm the only one that knows about it.
The smell of the garage. The latter to the attic.
Every splinter from the porch I ever got still didn't keep shoes on my feet.
And that little room upstairs. What was that really for anyway?
The forest green carpet in the living room and my mothers bath tub. Her walk in closet was almost as fabulous.
The wall of mirrors in the dining room where my mother taught me how to write my name.
The small bathroom in the hall so coordinated with tapestry and wallpaper.
And the ivy mirror along with its matching shelf. It always looked like it was about to fall.
The bamboo forest and the swings in the back yard.
And then there was my room. It was pink and yellow and blue. A friend of my parents painted it.
Quite a big room for such a little girl.
Looking back, I see that, so far, those were the best years of my life.. All of us. Under one roof. Alive and well.
I'll go back one day. Hopefully with the ones that are left.
I'll imagine the round glass table that sat near the window in the kitchen. I'll see the counter tops of the kitchen and right away not help but smell of Bactine. Many a scraped knee were bandaged on those counter tops.
I'll pretend all my mothers flowers are still blooming in the back yard.
Hopefully the wallpaper in Drew's bedroom is still the same.
The bathroom that connected our bedrooms where I tamed my wild cat.
And then of course the basement. The musky smell of the cellar where we kept Thornton's collar. The hide out during tornado warnings.
The unfinished shelves from wall to wall exploding with books. Along with our first computer.
My first Restaurant was down there too. Along with my elementary school. I was the principle.
And outside, that little pond my mother made was down below the porch.
It was truly magical.
Every bit of my childhood.
Has it really come to the point where I look back at when I was a child?
Is it really over?
Hard to believe it.
Hard to believe a lot of things.

February Again

Still a little shaky.
I spend days watching people pretend.
Days and days and days.
But I have to be sure to ask myself if it's just them, or could I possibly be playing a role unknowingly?
Between a rock and hard place they say.
I swear I love you both, but you sure don't make it easy.
She made me change my mind.
Completely.
Only God knows where I'll actually end up.
And I like it that way.
I lost my voice for a few days.
I think that's what really got your attention.
Isn't it a shame that I have to go to such lengths?
The groundhog saw his shadow again.
But that's all a myth anyway.
I'm beginning to think too logically.

Betsy

One day things will be easier.
Our smiles won't fade so quickly and our past won't seem as far away.
Why is it so hard to look you in the eyes?
Maybe because I've never been more honest.
It's frightening to think that in one moment it could all end.
But I'd bet everything that my last heart beat isn't the end of it.
Some nights I strive to destroy myself. Then the morning comes and i come to my senses.
A Spider like mechanism makes familiar music in a familiar city. Surrounded by familiar people saying familiar things. But the feeling I get is brand new. Every time.
My fingernails started to tingle and I felt a stiffness in the back of my neck.
My mouth became dry and the air became thinner.
From then on I referred to myself as Betsy.

Bitter

The city couldn't look any brighter than it does tonight.
It's hard to think that I come to your house and I don't even take off my coat anymore.
What did I do wrong?
I'm being sent back.
Don't waste our last 5 minutes asking why.
Sometimes dark roads are the only cure for confusion.
With my foot on the gas I can at least pretend I'm going somewhere.
I'll try not to lose my imagination. I'll try not to lose sight of all the things that got me where I am.
Wings are no use without feathers.
But only few have wings that work anyway.
These feet will do just fine.
Why do I waste my time with makeup when you don't even look me in the eyes?
I'll run all the red lights just to feel alive.
I'll get there in one piece and I won't even remember how I did.
People people people.
Problems problems problems.
Space space and space.
Wasted space.
I'm not afraid. Ask anyone.
It just takes me a minute to warm up.
I'll help you pretend.
I'll tell you what sounds good.
But at the end of the day, I'll deny it all.

Midwest Lover-

I turn up the music in hopes that I won't be able to hear my thoughts.
The sheets of rain practically take me with them as the city sways from side to side.
A Midwest lover is no one in the south.
Isn't that a shame?
My feet ace.
And so does my belly.
But I can't bring myself to tears.
It's not real enough.
Some days I'm so alive and free.
And others, I'm a puppet on a string.
Waiting for my cue.
Everything was lost.
But only for a quick moment.
Another moment that I'll never get back.
The high pitch and the flashing lights kill my senses.
My head is a galaxy.
Full of comets and black holes.
I can't say exactly how it all got there.
But there's scientific proof that it is.
Today I decided I want to live to be a hundred.
With rings on my fingers I can distract myself.
But naked I am powerless.