Diary of My Days

Little blue book

Opening to my touch

               need you so much

Shh ... it's a secret

               but my head must crack

for a minute or two

I turn to you

               You understand

                              don't say a word

Writing with a fever

               and I don't know

WHY?  You won't tell

               I understand myself

My private little hell inside

               a book

it dwells day by day

               my thoughts collapse on a pen

Jumbled and careless

               THEY FALL

But then my book sweeps them up with her worn fingers

               And reminds me of

A Grandparent I never knew

A father I never had

               A mother that left

A brother's death

               A sister - CAME CLOSE

A love - will it last? 

My DIARY knows.

Mdawn

Hypocritical Worth

I can't tell all about it

Just yet I've discovered my place

Far behind in the woods

An echo restless calls

               I can't stand when

I'm weary

               Can't hunger when

I don't care about substance

Lingering visions of more important tears

Not for me             but her

               The one that can't speak

She's locked in a little place

               Never been given water

                              can't grow

Mindless AND conniving

               But really just a child

Interior blues don't fade

               like my eyes with my moods

               The stones aren't set

The time passes

                              BUT SLOWLY

               daughter of misery

Do you want to play?

                              GO AWAY

                                             come back

I can't help but misunderstand

               When that's all that anyone's ever done.

               don't know how to be "just right"

Just my mama's excuse

               &

everyone else's "not quite good enough."

Multiple Personality Euphoria

I'd like to be an Artist

And then I could simply Draw

            You a Sketch of all of the Grey Areas

Of Emotion; Or I could be a Psychologist

            And Play Mind Games with you and

Always have control.  Maybe a Seductress

            With no Morals - always using Femininity to

My Advantage.  Indifference could be my Trick -

            Not Caring and Letting things just Be.

I could be Mother to you and Love you so

            Very much it Hurts - or an Actress

So Skilled that you could Never See past my

            Masque.  And the Little Girl - always so

Scared and Uncertain - Never receiving Enough

            Attention or Affection.  Perchance the Poet -

Or the Muse - Creatively Putting on paper my

            Soul and Decorating simple whims

With Eloquence.  Unfortunately - they are inseparable -

            They are all ME.

Mdawn

10/24/1994

Give Me Your Sleeve

You think I'm too dreary

            Wanting things to be just right?

Trees sigh as I walk by

            The leaves waving in reply

My eyes are full of insight

            The starlight shines so very bright

Moonrise over poppy fields

            The sun flowers in the dawn - flowers in her hair

Get so high on ideas and emotions

I think I can fly off your roof

            Will you catch me if I fall and love me when I cry?

I need you       join my soul

            Teardrops in the rain

                        in a purple sky

And grey enfolds me              Then I wonder why

            Rainy days intrigue me

Maybe the tears burn my eyes

            Mingle with the night

Blue-black river of hope

            Indecisive at the turns

and then

            rushing up the bank

Wanders aimlessly

                                    ANSWER ME

Need an answer

            for forever

Occurrences of the past

            startle my creativity

Blanket of Fear

               Please                    go away

But I got to wipe my eyes

       ON WHAT?

                              give me your sleeve.

Mdawn