Being an Adult

I whisper longingly of joining the circus,
transforming myself into a clown, or a high wire artist.
I dream of running away-
from our tidy condo where never, never echoes in the shadows.
I need to start over
like pulling clean warm laundry from the dryer.
Here is only sighs and promises.
Now is only collectors and debts,
dirty dishes and bills.
I miss running through the sprinkler and laughing as the water hit my skin.

I hate adulthood
dealing with it
and making something of your life

Wish there really was a net under this high wire act

Fairy Tales and Saviors

I want to free you-
follow your fading tracks,
find the golden apple,
ride the north wind,
talk to the burning sun,
cross the desert,
pull out the enchanted sword,
out-wit the troll,
master the jeweled talisman,
weave the nettle garment,
break through the tangle of thorns,
bespell the witch,
fight the evil henchmen,
climb to the top of the tower,
slay the dragon,
sneak into the dungeon,
follow your voice,
break your chains,
pull you out into the light,
and dress you in a gleaming white robe.

I want to take you by your shoulders,
look into your eyes,
and say the magic words-
Words that turn you back into yourself.
Back into my little sister,
who played aliens and jump-rope.
My sister who dreamed of fairies and princes,
of traveling over-seas,
of a two story white house
with dogs and babies in the yard.
My sister before
the depression stole you,
tied you up,
left you to die.