I feel myself slipping,
floating off to an unnamed...

Dreams are not tangible
yet I grip my pen to recount...

My desire to be safe
is a flower in false bloom...

April brings memories of you -
your smile, like sunshine...

So tell me, do I wallow?
Do I indulge the darkness...

And I am somewhat glad
to be home among the sunshine...

What's it like to wake up and feel
the start of a new day...

You worry about being the target again,
a political pawn...

Poetry follows me in sleep,
trailing down snowy banks...

It's funny how you thought you overwhelmed me,
when really, I overwhelm myself...

I hide the lonely
under flannel sheets...

I don't think it can ever be
properly expressed...