.Mirrors In My Hair.

When I was
born
they wanted me
to remember
who I was
Always
so
they put
mirrors in my hair
so
now
every time I think
I am looking
up
I am actually
looking
down.

.Stuck In Traffic.

I am a traffic light
Red like heat
Orange heaves
Beaneath
Me
Like a world
Under
The sunset
Green lies at
The end
timid and pure
It almost makes me smile
Tooth by tooth
Like piano keys
but before the
whole song is
played
the mouth
f
a
l
l
s
shut
like
velvet theatre curtains
I'd like to
spring
these flashing traffic
lights but
it seems that
I can
never
quite make up
my
mind.

Word doodles are addictive. Peter, I blame you. In a good way.

.Waiting.

Lying
in the middle
of this bed
when I should be
doing
much less
like sleeping
and then I look up
thinking
that maybe
I saw
the door
sway
just a little
so I sit
staring
just for a moment
It's still, like
one of those
freaks who stand
on corners
dressed as statues
God they freak me out

It upsets me
to think my mind
is
lying
What other untruths has it unleashed on me
Rolling like snowballs
until
I am trapped
under an avalanche
of my own bullshit.

Then I realise that
the door is
always
moving
just a little
and I am
always
lying
just a little
sitting
in the middle
of the bed
pretending
that I'm not
always
waiting
for the door to
swing
open
and for
you
to walk in
whoever
you
are.

I am so impressed with myself for omitting any punctuation. Sheer will power, people.

.Hope.

Like a thousand little hands
Waving
As a dream flutters by
I see
Pinpricks
Of Hope
Piercing
The velvet vacuum
of
The End.

My first word-doodle ever! Actually, I lied. This is not my first word-doodle ever. Not really. It was a poem until I stopped myself half-way.