by laurie howland
A hot buttered mess
That is how one could describe her
She is always late
and always a mess
Her hair
Her clothes
Her room being the worst
Even her book bag
Filled with old wrappers
A stray sock
How does a stray sock get in there?
I don’t know she says
Is that a crumbled cookie in a bag from Christmas?
A hot buttered mess
No matter how many times I yell
Get frustrated
or try to help
She remains in a state of chaos
Is that dirty underwear on your floor?
I don’t know she says
How do you not know if it is dirty or clean?
A hot buttered mess
She is running late again
Stumbling down the stairs with brush in one hand
and mismatched socks in the other
What have you been doing for the last hour?
I don’t know she says
Is that deodorant in your pocket?
A hot buttered mess
She is flinging papers all over the table
She is on the verge of a breakdown
I can’t find my math homework she cries
When did you see last it I ask?
I don’t knows she says
Can I help you look?
A hot buttered mess
Items are pulled from her book bag
Papers crumbled, torn, scraps and even straw wrappers appear
Nothing equates to her homework
If you were more organized you wouldn’t lose things
I know she says
A hot buttered mess
by laurie howland
The glass cracked
Under the pressure
From the stress
Compromising her structural integrity
It spread like a spider web
Fanning out into all aspects of her life
It was like veins with blood pulsing through it
Taking the pain to all parts of her heart
Impacting her soul
She doesn’t recall when the crack first appeared
Though she had felt it for a long time
She had gotten good at ignoring it
Denying its existence
Till it became too obvious
Years of suffering, loneliness and sadness
The sheer emotional breakage was too much
And the glass cracked
She knew it was going to shatter
Her hopes
Her dreams
Her heart
Leaving her exposed
For the glass had been her fortress
And now she lay bare
Unprotected from the elements
The judgement
The pain
The heartache
But she knew she wouldn’t replace the glass
Repair or try to mend the cracks
No, they were her scars
Wounds from her struggles
The glass cracked
Forcing her to face the truth
Come to terms with her story
Allowing her heart to heal
Her soul to strengthen’
With no need for armor
Or guards
The glass cracked
And set her free
by laurie howland
They say silence can be deafening
But what does that mean
That in its quietness it brings an intensity
Like dynamite blasting through a hillside
Or the scream of a woman in labor
Or a child crying out of loneliness
Yes, silence can be deafening
For in its lack of a shrill, a screech or a whisper
It conveys a weight unlike anything else
Yet, silence can be golden
When the heaviness of its message
Conveys something deeper
Then a hug, a smile or any words could
Silence is golden
When it brings peace into
Your heart, your mind and your soul
And it allows you to simply enjoy
The moment and bask in its purity
Silence can bring a loneliness
That isn’t always sad or uneasy
But like the warmth of a blanket on a cold night
Silence can be more powerful
than any words ever spoken
A profound reticence
For it elicits at times
The deepest and rawest of emotions
A quietude that stills the heart
A hush that brings a gentle breeze to the soul
Oh, the power of silence
Use it wisely
by laurie howland
To dream of a different path
One with less sorrows
Less roots to stumble over
With fewer ledges that drop off
A path that can be challenging
But comes with breathtaking views
One that isn’t walked alone
But with a friend
Whom offers love and guidance
A path that winds through life
Up hills and down into valleys
One that never ceases to amaze
That is what I dream
And I dream it with you