THE MOST PRECIOUS THING

The most precious thing
The most precious time of day
My heat on your shoulder
In quiet afterglow conversations.

Silk and steel under soft lips
Fit against you
No gap unfilled
Damp skin shining like diamonds in lamplight.

Rose-gold through the bedroom window outside
Softening, cooling into milky, mignight blue
Times like these are the most precious.

© 6-2-2009

I'M TIRED

I'm tired.
Tired of fighting everyhing and for everything.
Tired of things not working out
In love
In work
In life.

Tired of seeing others move on,
Their lives playing out before me,
While my needle stays stuck in my arm
And in the same worn-out groove.

I'm tired of having lost the love
Of two really great men
Because of my addiction
I don't want to be going through this again.

I'm tired of having to fight for every little scrap
Of self-esteem and self-respect and self-control.
I'm tired of crying over my own feelings,
Long overdue for a good oen anyway
Because they spent far too long drowning at the bottom of a bottle.
I'm tired about worrying about not worrying about others' opinions
And just concentrating on my own well-being.

But if eternal vigilance
Is the price of my freedom over this addiction,
Then bring the battle on.

But damn it all to hell,
I'm tired.

© 3-28-2009

VALUABLES

When did you steal my heart?
No breaking and entering,
I was a willing accomplice.
I handed you the key and code to my security system.

I let you walk off with my goods:
My mind, my heart, my soul.
No hope of getting them back,
No three strikes for you,
But I could get life without parole for aiding and abetting.

I plead guilty.
Please, lock me up and throw away the key.
Just give me a chance to steal your valuables, too.

© 3-16-2009