Hoodie

Why do you hide?
She asked him?
It protects me, my hood,
it wraps me and shrouds me from the outside.
I let in what I want to.
So it is a defense mechanism? she asks.
Yes, in some ways it is.
She interjects, But I wasn't talking of your hood.
Oh, well my my hood is my metaphor for life.
So if you ask why I hide, I'll simply refer you to my hood.
Or my hat. Either one, I can hide within.
I like hiding. It's safe.
Will you ever come out? She asks with a glimmer of hope......
I don't know. Part of me wishes I could live in my hood.
But much of life would be missed living in the hood.

WASH ME

Emotions, like words written in dirt,
on the back of trucks
can be washed away,
with a good cleansing rain.
A rain known often
falls down bearded cheeks
clearing the mind,
what is left of it.