(2015)
#Skin
Springtime means Berry pickin’ In warm sun Therapeutic Part of me
When the emotion comes up It feels like heartburn Like acid Clenching my throat My ears go watery
Why can’t I choose to be somewhere in the middle? Surrounded by extremes Measure everything With a grain of salt
My pump Constant companion Of my disease My sensor Resembles a feeding
Most women are cooks But a man who cooks Is a chef She cooks over and over To feed the masses
The pressure inside Is building It comes out through my eyes I stop up the tears It comes out through my nose
Yo te amo Tres palabras Que solucionen todo Para la mujer Tan complicada
Algunos me gusta compartir Calientitos Justo cuando salgan del horno Que no se enfríe Por eso lo escribí
Blonde eyes To match her hair Life is mean She counts her blessings Hopes for the best
How do you measure pain? All is relative and personal Even with one’s own self It is impossible to compare As memory distorts pain
My heart breaks A little each day For problems I can’t solve For things I can’t change All I can do is pray
What if one day I wasn’t there for you? And you were left needing me If I wasn’t there When you woke up
Long and slender Her every movement Deliberate and graceful Composed as She listens quietly
My sister’s cookies Chocolate chip Got my nephew to Say her name For the first time
If I could make you smile Just once Sincerity From an appreciative heart It would make all of it worthwhile