No Seatbelt

No Seatbelt

-Alicia M.

No Seatbelt

driving about

not really sure (where

I was) feeling wreckless

and just trying to

find something

- anything

that might bring change,

even just the chance for it

driving about

desperate to detatch

from conclusion

exhilarated

and half-mad

wanting to cross dangerous bridges

but still holding back

i couldn't find a crossing

- not one

and i despaired

but drove on with

no seatbelt

i would recognize

the danger

anyway

i thought the remnants

of judgenment

would be enough to protect me

THEN

you hit me

from an unexpected angle

and i passed through

an invisible windsheild

into a world where pain wasn't exquisite

but the exquisite was painful

the lessons weren't learned

and the penalties harsh

now i must climb slowly

a cut vine

towards the apex for

a chance of sunlight

reaching for you

searching for you...

rehabilitation is a slow process

harder still from my

rejection of it

the lessons were never learned

and will be in recovery forever

paying for my mistake everyday

for the rest of my life

with pleasure

Daydreams

Daydreams
By Alicia Millar

comming in and out
I am a tide
sometimes the shore is rocky
and sharp
and i retreat for awhile
but never forever
the moon always pulls me back
to the lands of shapes and lines

but i prefer the ocean
where things have less
m a s s
rules are flouted
i am borrowed from gravity
which fights for purchase
and I'm (almost) weightless

if not for the moon
i might live here
forever
and have
strange dreams of
being awake
in the land of shapes and lines

Butterfly

In my mind

an idea

no lines, or parameters

just liquid

running through my fingers

trap it quick!

now it is a butterfly

it tickles my palms

i smile

but i can't grasp it or

i'll crush it

i have to let it hover there a while

let it flirt

now i can see parts of it

it begins to crystalize

here is the wing tip

there are the eyes

i let it speak to me

with no expectation

expectation is a bureaucrat

forcing things into boxes

i don't make ideas

i discover them

and treat them

like precious things

- A Millar

Precipitation

There is no rain

but I can imagine it

it doesn't make me sad

In my mind I'm in a cafe

with plush chairs

waiting for the sky to open

up and cry

waiting for my nebulous thoughts

to come full term

When finally the water breaks

I precipitate words

onto a page

the rain comes

tatooing music onto the pavement

while I paint a world

with nothing but ink

and destroy the desert

The way out

All the boxes we're put in,

their

wallssoclose

boxes

within

boxes

lid

upon

lid

Concrete departments

Someone drew windows

on the sides

to show us the way out

but it distracts

The way out is not

forward

or

backward

or

left

or

right

or

up

or

down

It is within

There, we might escape our narrow confinements

and redefine our terms

Then, we can see that the walls are not concrete,

but corrugated PAPER

Fragile, and persishable

- A. Millar