flowersinherhair

You know, I WAS asleep
Before you barreled in 
And dumped your dirty diaper on my head
By the way, that wasn’t appreciated 
At all
But since when do you care 
If someone else doesn’t want you to do something 

In the room of shadows 
You can never really be sure 
If something is there 
They just melt into the shadows
And disappear
They fade into the grasping hands 
That glance across the walls 

My face 
Is the only face I can ever remember
When I am not looking straight at it.
I can summon it to my brain at will 
I can picture the beauty
The perfect ugliness 
The arched eyebrows 

When I close my eyes
Images dance before my closed lids
Distorted
Appearing, then rearranging themselves
To form new pictures 
No less confusing
Than those that came before them.

We sit there, pulling faces 
And groaning at the fact that we
”Don’t have enough gym class”
We seem unable to imagine life without it.
But somewhere out there
Are children to whom gym class is so rare 

I get sad.
Hopelessly, irretrievably depressed
Wallowing in the very darkest depths of despair.
But when I am happy,
I soar
High, high above the world
Swinging on moonbeams and sunshine