Perfect images,

captured, just for a moment --


Already passed by.

-Clouded by love

Although its as clear as day that you and I could never be,

My stubborn heart refuses to search for other fish in the sea.

Sparkles and stars,
there is a brilliance in the sky
and a darkness, all around it

Child of wonder
child of Light
Oh my Lord, child

Please hold on tight

The worst of monsters
come out at night
A wingless child

Cannot take flight

Wonder, young child
Let the Light  in you
emit from your wild

Chasing all you have known
that causes  such fright

A grass covered field
A rolling, green hill
On your back,  you look up

To a sky, brilliant blue

Until the blue  I see
becomes the vastest  of oceans
now, below me

On a windless, cloudless day


Wonder, young child
And watch all the monsters
float away

you have it,
the most beautiful.
most envied,
most divine,
and even in a room
that's filled with lookalikes
you'll always be the most,
the most, the most -
a priceless treasure.
and maybe it's okay
to only be alive
through other people's eyes,
but someone's always lurking
just outside the frame -
a new obsession, waiting to be found.
most envied,
yet most hated.
there you have it,
the most unloved.

Her memory is like the beauty of the silted Nile,
Of sacred blue lilies and heron
And skimming eyes of the crocodile.

There’s a charming night; her air seductive,
her beauty blinding- she strives through pain; writes a
story with a dried-out pen; writing a poem with no lines.

She is the night; her skin is brown sugar, her eyes are
filled with black galloping horses, that defies any oblivion,
her lips are red as the blushing passion of youthfulness.

Her wrongs in my eyes are a pale memory;
she is a penny with its head and tail- whichever side she
falls on, her worth affords all of my attention.

Tonight, her touch is like a paintbrush on my skin;- she
tries to paint a new moon- reflecting her smile’s shine;
she’s a candle that pierces at the darkness, and light starts to
bleed out, filling the room with an echo of, ‘her’ and only ‘her.’

She’s truly perfect, so perfect she feels unreal;
she’s a fatal misery- full of forgetfulness; the memory
of her I try to make stay. To live with her is a pain, without
her is a shame;- she’s truly perfect, so perfect she feels unreal
—sadly, she is only, and remains just a dream.

That magic that enchants you in another
is not only in others

-From my heart


If you were to google the definition of beautiful, my dear,

A photograph of your sweet and radiant face would then appear!

Hopeful to not be tasteless,
I let you in to take a quick lookie.
You reached with intentions nameless,
and found my heart quite jankey.

Now out and melting in your hands,
The crimson essence drips.
All I can do is watch as if in the stands.
While I feel the smile on your lips.

The energy surrounds mine.
Trying to dig at my core.
As if it didn't cross a line,
Ignoring holes it tore.

Then I was claimed,
To be yours of course.
Your being was aflame.
Because I was the source.

My appearance to match,
Only your imagination's images.
as sweet as a cookie batch,
and no disposiotion to scrimmages.

Forgetting that cookies don't last.
After time they get eaten,
or become stale like the past.
Perfection achieved by being beaten.

Pressure makes diamonds,
You say I am no exception.
So I'll use my ribbons,
To give explanations.

And just like a cookie,
I will cover it up with sweetness.
Giving everyone a lookie.
Knowing I am tasteless.

////It’s a subtle reminder;
a constantly temporary kind of repeat
—sometimes I cry myself to sleep,
and think to myself, “Hey, was it all
just another beautiful dream”