Sounds of a Mockingbird

A young girl's eyes
filled with tears
curled up
under a sheet of blankets
alone with her heart
that won't stop exploding
with pain, anguish, and darkness

A black hole she's fallen into
and she's not sure why
The images have faded
A set of deleted scenes
Taped over as if they never existed
Like trying to watch a reel
expecting a picture
but only hearing a few slices of sound

She winds up the metal key
so she can sleep
He tilts his head
from side to side
brown fluffy ears
with patches of blue
on the inside

Over and over it plays
a soft tune
bringing calm
like the waves of the ocean
swooshing in their white foam
against the beach's sand

She finally shuts her eyes
full of their sticky moistness
not knowing that someone else
was somehow there
and somehow will always be

The words of the tune
she won't hear
until she's told
years later
curled up in the same sleep-like state

A tune of a mockingbird
hushing a baby to sleep
an angelic voice
she's come to know so well
an angelic voice belonging to someone
that couldn't have known
yet somehow,
someway,
they do

1990

A summer of discovery
swirled in a vortex
of storms, midnight dreams, and a fabricated dance
Being thirteen wasn't so bad after all
with your disguise playing itself out
on a stage of deception
that became a beloved haven
of escape and comfort
from the outside swirls
of what really was

Swinging upside down
from the branch's bark
almost sturdy enough
to sustain formless wishes
of becoming the reflection
seen each day

Twenty episodes later
I'm still there
running in circles
with you
around the gazebo
in dresses and ribbons
talking without words
sensing who you really are
behind the eyes
behind the facade
you learned to play almost too well

The wind told me you and I would be here
connected in a storm of together
too strong to dissipate
into nothingness
a pull so strong you can't say no
overwhelming the boundary of who is you
and who is me

Now the only question that remains
is who we were
and whom we will be