fretful with fear of exposing
what’s never said,
afraid this halo might
drop like a hula-hoop,
becoming a fallen angel, whose power’s usurped,
till the lid rages from my perfect head.
I’m laughing at until I cry,
with terms of endearment
becoming impossible,
this life seeming too severe at times,
comprehension of the infinite
impossibly magnificent to understand,
all I really want to say is…
“Hey, we’re all on the same journey to paradise”
but eyes would roll
from empty lenses,
and I would smile with embarrassment
knowing my heart slipped out by mistake …
I’m like Pinocchio …
I just wanna be real
deuce coupe 
Carol Lynn Grellas is a three-time Pushcart nominee and the author of A Thousand Tiny Sorrows, soon to be released from March Street Press and two chapbooks: Litany of Finger Prayers, Pudding House Press and Object of Desire, Finishing Line Press. She is widely published in magazines and online journals including most recently, The Centrifugal Eye, Oak Bend Review and deComp, with work upcoming in OVS and Saw Palm Florida Literature and Art. She lives with her husband, five children and a little blind dog who sleeps in the bathtub.