the off days

this revolving door
keeps spinning
i push
heavy on the date
that turns the on days
off.
you scoff
at my reflection
not to mention
the attention
we are opposites
at odds
cross wedges
as we turn
at equal pace
a constant race
without a win
yet still we spin.

three days
the sun shines in
watch through glass
too quickly pass

its dark inside
the off days.

searching for ways
to kill this curse;
just makes things worse.

quest

i am in your eyes
you see
i cant change
the way you look at me.
you play by the book and
follow rules;
i'll search for clues
and pay my dues
with elves...
and sorcerers...
and harlots.

keep connecting dots
pour more shots -
a grand slam breakfast
on a mushroom cloud
a serious explosion
welcome to the next level.

black velvet sweeps the floor
as we dance
(apart)
how do we do this two step?
tango?
twelve step?
shotgun!
i shall ask the oracle...

i remember to not go back
to the places ive already been
i have already found what im looking for
there
i just didnt know why.

keep collecting thoughts
and items in my satchel.
the four cheeses lead me
to the cold metal chest.
i find water
and drink.

continue the quest.
chase the dragon.
capture the wizard.
music is my goddess given power...
this is what i draw

i know i will beat this game.

archers

i give up
you give back
shoot arrows at my heart
attack me
when im down
grinding thoughts until im grounded
nothing matters of the heart
i press stop
you push start
you dont see me
but im here
confusion leads to something clear.
pluck arrows; take aim
both at fault with nobody to blame.
a final shot at fate complete.
done deal.
fait accomplit.

im sorry i missed you.

some heroine

try to illustrate the way
my heart sings onomatopoetic
like a comic book lover.
i marvel...

colours of primary
red
yellow
blue
and black so black;
pops the white
where i write
in words that come in sounds
of cacophonic proportions
stammer stutter stare stumble stuck. here.

i keep subscribing to these issues;
speed read and write the story
spill my guts
for glory

writer's block, the villain
blank holes and lead dust smudges
where the words once were
and ought to be
crumble under pressure.

stage fright is my kryptonite
tear another page.

i am some heroine.

change.

and when we are forced to remember
everything we forgot might have changed
differences team up together
and nothing has only stayed same
we look at the faces we recognize
as someone we're certain we knew
and we laugh at the memories we harbour
in hearts that have broken in
too many times
as we settle ourselves very tightly
outstretched in our comfortable groove
squeezing in what we think comes tomorrow
as all yesterdays quickly sift through
we try as we may to hold on to
everything good in our past
but as mighty our fists tend to gather
only scatterbrained moments still last
we'll wander the streets of our lifetime
looking backwards at all that we've lost
disregarding what waits in the future
and avoiding right now at all cost
we fight and we fight and keep fighting
to ignore laws of life seems so strange
when the only thing proven for certain
shows the only thing certain is change.