ComplexiDy?

Complex creature.
in creative states.
opening gates that were once erased.
easily placing things aside
deciding whether to take the ride.
Complexity is what I view.
Traveled mountains, disheveled shoes.
on hands and knees, through hide and seek
I leap alone . . . yes, quietly. 

Creating complexities in me
I soon, sad, see
this view of me
I try. We try. Things haven't worked.
What happens now?
We turn to dirt?
The build in bond
caused casualties, 
complex creatures
we both must be?

I seem to see the complexities
but does he know,
'complexed as me?'
the fear is:
quivers, speech so cold
left with what?
a memory mold.

Come back! with commas that stop the game
the playful dates
as dance is rain
that falls so frequent now in dust
cause smoke in eyes
the scene shot - [fuss]
-----
to be continued . . . 

True Colors.

The rage of red caused my green to go
pale white in the face in shock I glowed
mid in the night I quietly yell-owed
for a taxi who smiled hello
blues in back as I rode along
'back to black' amy knows the song
lone I dance in gray fit pants
I walked the stairs of checked lands
brown the ground, as I gazed down
no help in sight, pink panic clown!
on train I knew my purple rained
orange my back beat heavy pain
----
not a-gain . . . another loss.

x 2 (R x A = D)

There's two that stand before me
In need of something new
The newness in my journey
The new - it happens, no shoes

Expressive in their longing
Their hair sweeps side to side
I tried to stop from knowing
How much I died inside

Inside from lonely highways
I tread one day at a time
No one hears my probing
They sit and stare in mime
... No tears this time around
The frown is far from round
My gown of glory gone
But 2, come sing my song

The two
They are my gateway
My helping hands
This time
The time it takes to build
Your circle, follow . . . come ride!

This playground once filled happy
This space is SO fulfilling
The feelings I hold so deeply
Now once upon a healing....

I try, see eyes of hunger
To move and learn once more
No cares of those around them
I see them 2 times more

How do they still believe?
My presence is yet so absent
I taught my worth was lather.
Not grow in uneasy disaster

----
2 can equal completion
2 can make you whole
2 is not uneven
2 hold a heart of gold!
----
I thank the 2 students who haven't left my side.

I am the one I no longer know.

"I am, whatever they say I am. If I wasn't, then why would they say I am."

Yeah . . . that's about right.
----------------------------------
I am
the frown upon my face
the hours past, no dry erase.
I am
this deep
dark
complex
comic?
book of hearts on sleeveless pockets
I am
the words I 'itch' to others
wish: take back! those tongueless runners
I am
the silence, I hold my breath
I kick and scream, burn in my chest
from den of doubt
no patience,
racing with my quiet graces
I am
the time I take to ease
the shield that builds
from ache and knees . . .
that used to bow upon my carpet
ask for help
but then, I stopped it
I am
the grip I tightly hold
when things go wrong
I love 2-fold
2 personalities come out to play
the one who cares
the one with rage
I am
this D-scription
I see
Irate I fake the hate at gate
affect me not?
yeah right, untrue
but true like glue
I say to you
---------------
I am
this person
I ask: Who's she?
it makes me wonder
what happened to me?

These bags?. . . my bad . . . I 'got it.'

This time I moved my bags . . .
clear across the room.
I had no cucumbers lying around
to pick up shop at moon.
Though I felt like a dirty rag
just left on the side to dry,
soak and wet with tears,
inside . . . I tried. I bribed.

My bags were half way by the door
ready to walk out and leave,
as much as I didn't want to
I really had to feed
. . . this unhealthy feeling: cold
my covers were not enough
couldn't cover up my silence,
the silence I wanted to fuss.
my telephone by my side
my keys in right,  his left hand(ed)
he unlocked my door of need
the door I shut with speed
Go!
Ignore.
Pause.
Stop! and "just Breathe."
-----
my bags fell down the stairs though,
so I kicked and screamed - turned red.
The blood red velvet cover,
is the one we both slept under.
Rolled out of 'bag' in the morning
after pleasant memory.
That picture, my favorite one
in my journal now . . . lock and key.
----

My bags held loads of laundry
No chance to start re-cycle
Now chapter 3
confused . . .
by compli-who?

That bag was really heavy
too many kept zipped tight
I commented on its weighedness
With him, I guess I'm right?
I write these words to hear me
to see what bags to empty
tonight my bags were black
in dark my breath unstealthly
----

Moving on . . . every bag,
we carried day by day
one day they kept me conscious
one day with stories told
one day they were worth the wait,
calm and cured my soul.

One day, my bags like ears
listening for tones before rest
The last words I can remember
just 'got' a hold to my chest.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
my bags were filled with orange, green beaks inside.