Habits —

Written on July 24, 2018

Habits, even bad ones

Are hard to shake 

Knowing it’s no good

Or wrong

Or unproductive

Cannot be enough

Funny how you can get

A wishful thinking 

For a shoe that didn’t fit 

But made you feel pretty for a 

moment

Or for a back that never got scratched

A neck that needed rubbing 

And never found a willing hand 

Perhaps the state of discomfort

Kept you on edge

And that edge of never

Having or being enough

Was somehow easier than accepting happiness

Than accepting you can be

Appreciated

Adored

Mutually respected

Silly girl, I tell you

Let old bad habits fall 

Into memory boxes

That never get opened 

On the back shelf

In the darkest corner

Or straight to the trash heap 

Where they belong with

Unappetizing junk like

Stale bread or soggy chips

Let them just be lessons learned

Cautionary tales heeded

And smile at the happy groove

Of good times present 

Threshold

Her heart was on her sleeve
Like a neon sign
Flashing "Vacancy"
She had room to love
Room to care
A predisposition to vulnerability
His heart was tucked
Securely in his breast pocket
Wrapped with a handkerchief
He was afraid to open it
And held it close
Not willing to be less than cautious
She? She liked to test the water,
Not with a finger dipped in to gauge
Too hot or too cold
But with a cannon ball
Full immersion
Risk taken
He couldn't swim
So he kept himself safe from the edge
Close, but never deep
Watching the waves
Nothing ventured
Nothing gained
Her heart sings and longs to hear
A a splash as he joins her
Or melody sung from the shore in return
His heart is choked and silent
Disappointment has a hand
Suffocating his words
Paralyzing, immobilizing
So His eyes burn, they seem to plead
"Read me!"
Seeking to give a sign
Of depth beneath the silence
Time, he thought, in time
A sound might escape these lips
If only she would wait...
She doesn't waste time
Or watch clocks tick
She knows that clocks stop
And hearts don't just break
Sometimes their beating ends
And so
Her heart is on her sleeve
Like a neon sign
Flashing vacancy
Predisposed to vulnerability
A tear is on her cheek
And warmth is in her arms, in her hopes
He stands on the threshold
Mute
"Fear is a damnable thing," she says
The light is on
The door is open
But it is getting late
Pesky doubts just like
 Mosquitoes and bats
Are drawn to the light
Of a door left cracked
Her heart was on her sleeve
Like a neon sign
Flashing vacancy
Predisposed to vulnerability

He took a step ...