Behind Closed Curtains

The room was held in a thick darkness; its only light from a single lamp post glowing blue behind the pulled curtains.  I was lying back in a big leather chair.  His dark image hovered above me in a rhythmic motion while the darkness  suffocated me and my body stuck to the chair.  The mixture of his cologne, his skin, and and the chill of late autumn filled my nose.  At fourteen I knew there was no use in crying, no use in screaming; no one would listen (no one ever had).  So all I could do was lay there, held in the secrecy of evening and let him do what he wanted with me.  All held in the hope that he would finally stop and start being my father…

still burns deeply
in the barren ground


late autumn rain
a final scent of summer
rushing through red leaves
a moment of lightness
reliving my broken dreams


rippling in the bay
her heavy heart


blood moon
I see myself
more clearly-
his grip on me
finally gone


early morning
my mind in a haze
of wildflowers


poppy petals dance
in afternoon breeze








Dreams and Silver Coins

all those dreams-
instead I count
falling stars


hawk feather
the weight of her words
trailing mountain peaks


shooting star
our conversation
takes a turn..


western sun the way it soothes me warm concrete


all my wishes
the sparkle
of silver coins


crescent moon
tracing the outline
of my broken dreams


scrambling for the last drop of crumbs lost lover


I spiral
into a dream