Freeport, Illinois

Figuring myself out miles away, I'll never forget where I have been

Restructing these thought patterns engraved in my brain 

Everyone has shaped me in someway

Every move, a chapter to sell

Problems to conquer, no longer to carry

Opportunities to sail, no longer to fear

Relaying on this strength that's gotten me through the years

Turning the past into a bridge for the future

,

I remember your corn fields, hay bails, and gravel roads

Loving your rolling hills and fields, upon fields

Lementing through a cemetery with thick morning fog and sparling dew

I can still hear my grandmother's tree frogs, owls, and crickets

Nothing like seeing those big, puffy clouds from a child's perspective

Or eating freshly chucked corn from a hard days work

I still hear the glass shadder in another abandoned factory

Somethings I really do miss, those damn mosquitos obviously not being it

Sensory History

Downtown 

Bumping music, competing voices 

Air stuffy, shoes stick

She's catching up with friends 

Gently caressing wooden railing spindles;

Swallowing Shirley Temple's 

I'm alone again 

Attic

Yelling below, thuds, & crys

Scared, thinking the worst

Angry, drunk mother slamming door on face 

Hot, bitter tears basking salt 

Death

A gasping breath under weighed fingers calling my name,

These legs are glued

A face turns blue

Small little plastic clock

Distraction to disorder 

Rescue

Projecting blame, unaccountable adult

None of this is right 

Suits, note pads & tables 

Seatbelts looser than her grip

Dreaming of far, far away

Runaway

Commands, demands pervasive parent

Angry, unable to escape

She barges through barricade

Wooden window pane opens easy,

Shaking & hungry 

Adulting

Your impatient, judgement tone

A daughter you never knew 

Escaping coping mechanisms 

Freedom to choose 

Lighting up in front of me

Sweet affections we lose