deb behind closed doors
my eyes fill with fire
as i find and finger
the sweetest words i think i've ever read
-and knowing they were
meant for you alone makes them
all the sweeter...
"chase what makes your heart flutter,"
so you say...
i wish you'd hold still so i can
snatch you up and
take you home with me
birdmad and the world,
yeah,the world turns around
and the world
(and the world and the world)
the world drags me down
twiggie my sanctuary is my room. everything is strewn about, my closet is stuffed with boxes of stuff. stuff from kindergarten, stuff from middle school. i'm a pack rat. i keep anything and everything that ever had meaning to me. birthday cards, stuffed animals (that i still sleep with thank you very much), notes, papers, artwork, dolls, poetry, balloons from my going away party. i have this huge bed...and over half of it is covered with stuff. sometimes i don't even leave enough room for myself. my candles are all shoved onto a shelf, with incense and lighters and matches. i can't fit all of my books onto my bookshelf, and i don't know where to put my clothes. i don't know where to put anything anymore. i can never find the cd i want to listen to. my computer space has been taken up by more stuff. i love my room. 001219
starchild a place to call my own
and my own alone

a place to rest my head
with a smile upon my face
misstree i find myself bothered sometimes by the heavily accented hollering as neighbors garden outside my window, by hearing television through my wall at night, by always being surrounded in these horseshoe apartments

and then i remember that this 400 square shell is belongs to me, every inch, no roommate to share or compromise with, no musk but mine, no life smearing itself on the walls of my Home.

they can make all the noise they want. i fought long and hard to get here, humble as it may be, and if i am close-pressed outside, i breathe wide inside.
In_Bloom It's a 45 minute drive to get there
My mind is checking off my beach bag of items: hairclip, sandals, exotic candies for your sweet tooth
As soon as I exit the hwy, I exhale

Trees, shade, smooth clean roads and water features
Pulling into the garage is like docking a imagined space shuttle pod because it's so neat and orderly in there

The tile floors of the house are always clean, the bathrooms spotless and the chenille throw blanket in my favorite color is always waiting, freshly
laundered, folded on the sofa

You happily indulge my quirks by pointing out the closet of shirts hung by weight and color
A long shallow drawer of ties, dozens of them to touch, order and critique
Newly purchased cotton sheets on the bed for my nap

Here where I decompress once you leave for your job
Here is where I soak in a tepid bath mixed with powdered milk
Here is where I find a soft t-shirt and boxer shorts under the pillow to change into
Here is where I nap without interruption, just a few precious hours at the expense of your preparations and care
what's it to you?
who go