Xanadu
 

Screaming children and music all too loud, some suburban family home. A rope hung heavy in the doorway, in their faces, forever ignored. Frayed and flimsier at its ends, trampled and trudged through in the middle by dancing feet on the back garden floor. Adults choosing to pretend, speaking over the thought of the rope they left swinging, hanging, and forgotten.

Glass is still glass whether we gaze through it or shatter it into a million pieces or make a mystical mural or hold red roses or clean thoroughly to take a pretty picture or search for on the beach or step on unexpectedly at a dark sketchy park or wash with sudsy soap. Glass is still glass whether it holds pink lemonade or vials of blood, bright green acid, a mothers warm tomato soup for her sickly neighbor or a sourdough starter. Glass is still glass cover

My confidence is a mirror in a fun house. Distorted, changing and uncertain. It transforms at each glance. Twisting and contorting. Subtle alterations setting off endless reactions. What once felt safe and calm, now feels dangerous and agonizing. As the mirror contorts and shifts, my thoughts get louder and louder. I look to the left of me, a shard of a shattered mirror lays on the floor. But there’s someone next to me, I watch as they stare at the broken image of themselves

The fading sunset over the city by the Bay. A hot cayenne makes a powerful statement. A Muni stops at Market Street. The scent of bark across from Marin. A cable car crosses Van Ness. The box of Rice A Roni on a stove. A bed of roses by the Wharf. The angry man stands with rage. A bright sea of taillights of commuters going home. The seat belt click in the roaring Mustang on Geary. A puddle of blood following a fired 44 Magnum. The awning over a Chinese Restaurant. An electr

From Disney Fast-Play on the DVR To picking out a reliable car Monster High Dolls on a carpet floor 2am laughter muffled by a closed door Blunt bad jokes that shrug off life Slices of mango that slide off the knife Bitter black coffee with a bit too much sugar The crunch of a leaf and the wind that took her Pineapple scents from a curly hair routine Smiling as it finally feels like me Lively family dinners almost every night Dreams of a dorm room with warm fairy lights Paradi