#10

At five years old, I told my mother I felt strange.
She replied, ever caring with, "What, sweetie?"
If I had a vocabulary ten years wiser I would have told her it was like a freight train full of unicorns crashed inside my soul and they couldn't figure out how to escape the overturned boxcar of rainbows.

#9

Tame your quiet rage
with a silent roar and
the vibration of a guitar string.
Let it all go into oblivion and let the light shine but,
windows at sunrise,
So I've found,
tend to not be as transparent as normal.
With light stinging so bright,
reflect back your secrets,
stun your foes,
windows are a lot like people.