melancholy

when i was a little girl
my parents would leave me home,
alone.
my freedom, my giddy giddy time
alone.
and i grew on that feeling of being
alone.
and i'd seek some space to myself,
alone.
and as i grew, i cherished my time,
alone.
and nothing pleased me more than my company,
alone.

but sometimes, in the later hours of being alone,
i would sneak into their closet and burrow my face
in the smooth racks of hanging clothes
and breathe in the sweet sweet scent
of my mother, of my father, and there i would be,
surrounded.

Baby Girl

oo, baby girl, you such a fool
wrapping yourself tightly in your
foolish emotions; melodrama is your forte
oo, baby girl, i know you sit there in your
rifts, in the drifts of the tide,
pretending like you put forth full efforts
to rip free of the current,
but you and i know,
baby girl,
you and i know that you find
the thought of drowning
somehow
romantic