To the mothers

I want to take a minute, momma
not to tell you what I want, but to let you know I love you.
Life can get so busy
But I want you to know, thanks for all you do.

What I remember by pictures, you remember by heart.
You loved us the most, right from the start
From stinky diapers and brushing hair, to dirty fights and broken pairs
one thing remains, you're always there.

I want to take a minute, momma
not to tell you what I want, but to let you know I love you.
Life can get so busy
But I want you to know, thanks for all you do.


We're growing up fast and we cant slow it down.
you've done a good job, giving us ground.
To learn, to grow, to climb, to fall.
You've been there to guide us through it all.

I want to take a minute, momma
not to tell you what I want, but to let you know I love you.
Life can get so busy
But I want you to know, thanks for all you do.


One day, we'll find love and you'll give us away
Someday you'll have grandchildren and your hair will turn gray
Somtime after that, it will be our turn to take care of you
To remind you that you are beautiful, and of other things that are true.


I want to take a minute, momma
not to tell you what I want, but to let you know I love you.
Life can get so busy
But I want you to know, thanks for all you do.

Pour my bleeding heart out

I wish that we could start out fresh. We'll pretend we're perfect strangers, "Hello, Sir." and "What's up, Miss." You'll be skeptical and charming and I'll be cynical and sweet. We can set up camp in coffee shops and sketch out the pictures in our imaginations, hopped up on endorphins and caffeine. A comic book creation swimming in the story of you and me.

But as it stands, there is a chasm of circumstance and catastrophe between your heart and mine.
And they say that time heals all, but the saline from these tears stings. I miss you.

I believe this story can change. It can be colored with kisses under tall trees on mountain sides. Embellishing the pages with stories of pirates, gypsies and Martians encountered at the secondhand bookstore. Illustrated by the photos of memories built for two. Chapters woven together in nights of conquered levels and crocheted projects.

And yet calculated words keep us at arms length. What a shame. Do you ever wonder what might have been? I wish an apology meant something to you. Still, I'd rather try.

So, close your eyes and I'll paint the next scene, one new and fresh and squeeky clean. Lets fall blissfully in friendship: free of limits, clear of boundaries. And then we'll see where we can go from there. Are you game for a new adventure?