Muscle Poems

Home. The fight for home is what everyone is doing.  The wish fulfilling jewels we are. Fighting the pain of loss.

They were wise so young. I wondered where they were a lot. Insights from watching their parents, perhaps.

It’s been so tough. My body feels like tough meat. To relax by human touch will be myself being the first to die I ever remember again.

Home before the funeral.  Defenses are always up. Sensing always.  What draws my attention is danger, and hurt in others, I realize, is hurt in myself.

P.S. to narcissistic parents.  That was abuse.

When warmth goes away is when I’m going to be really afraid of myself. My soul’s state is very important to my health.