Ode to Gratitude

From the time you read my first 

written word, you’ve been in my corner.

You tell me my words seep into your soul 

and humble your heart in the simplest of moments… 

…at a library, at a book signing, or in my family’s 

basement where I’ve heard you play drums. 

Now, it seems the world has gotten too noisy as

you look for a silver lining.

I’m just sitting here trying to find a

way to say thank you.

The posters on my wall depict

bodies of work that

tussle in spandex underwear.

I keep my ten-year old confessions

in my front pocket

as I watch sweat

roll off washboard stomachs

like tears of victory.

The arm of the victor 

is raised, showing his

leopard skin tattoos.

They glisten through

a coat of baby oil,

as thick as muscles

running on adrenaline.

My pupils are still

popping out like

3-D sunspots, but

you can call this

an obsession.

Happy Girl Syndrome