Neener Land

And I know
This is just another thing
That will be about you.
And I know
Every line will show my hate
And I swear to god its hate.
Hate that I love your skin
And your second hand smoke
Hate the way your hair curls
And the length of your eyelashes
Hate that you’re mean to me
And your tired eyes
Hate that you act nice
And that you’ve never called me pretty
Hate that you use me
And the way you say my name
Hate that you found me
And the distance to safety
Hate that you don’t think about me
And the way I’ll never be able to paint you out.

Sestina.

Nothing more than a window was known as my home,

Where sweet melodies were sung by a pretty bird,

And the deep hole in the yard was a fake blue pool.

I always loved waiting for the mail,

But I hid because I just didn't have the will,

And I knew you just didn't have the time.

But I could always find enough time

To find a path that still leads to your home.

And I know you don't care, or even have the will

To just listen and hear that singsong bird.

I know you can see me waiting for the mail,

But you just pretend to fall into the fake blue pool.

I wish I knew what brings you to the pool.

I wish you actually knew what I do with my time.

I wish I still didn't wait for the mail.

I wish I didn't know the way to your home.

I wish I could only hear that bird.

I wish I wasn't a coward and just had the will.

I don't even know where to search for the will

To jump into the strange, fake blue pool,

Or where to hear that same song, sung by the bird.

Instead, I dream of spending all of my useless time,

Walking through the air to finally find my home.

I've taken the day off - there is no mail.

Isn't it funny though that there will never be mail?

It must be obvious I just haven't found the will

To open my eyes and find I may have found home.

But how on earth will you find the time!

Watch out, I may push you into the fake blue pool

If you can't hear that melody such by the bird.

Did you hear what has happened to the poor bird?

She died walking through the air to fetch the mail.

There was a delivery that was right on time,

And somehow she had finally found the will,

To just dive into the fake blue pool,

Where she would have finally felt home.

There's a funeral for the bird, if you find the will.

Disregard her mail, and cover the pool,

Now is your time to destroy a new home.

Fool. Fools.

“You need a hero – a cure.”
A hero?
Well, I’m sorry, but I do not have one – all my heroes have died.
I’m sorry, but there is no cure to my foolishness.

Why must these voice echo?
Is it karma? But how could it be –
You were the one to hold me under.

But you believed it was okay, everything is under control –
How could you do this?
It’s sickening to watch while you make yourself sick.

But this story will live on,
I’ll continue to speak to open ears of what was and what may always be.
Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll tell it from end to beginning –
Everyone wants a happy ending.

Your Observation: Katie's Ring

Childhood memories now stored in bright stone,
Moments of butterfly kisses, campfires, and tag.
Bedtime stories and lullabies,
Crands and fingerpaint -
All carefully placed and presented on your silver plater,
Just wanting to be noticed once more.