Why would I turn back
and smile,

if you left me out in the cold,
lost in the wild.

I am sorry
that I am going to come off as a *****
but I,
my friend,
Can't stand you like I used to.
You brag
and you scream
and you ignore me
but say hello to me
when no one is around.
Please tell me
what I did wrong
for us to grow apart-
It's almost like you didn't care.
Did you?
Or was I used to boost your ego?
I wasn't like you,
not good at the things you do.
I'm inferior
so to speak.
I complimented you.
I supported you.
That I didn't get in return.
I got ignored in return.
So tell me,
old friend,
Did I boost your ego?

I heard my mom saying that my body is a temple
When It took just 3 text messages to get you through my door
Your finger prints all over this broken building, my body
As you enter without even knocking, screaming you love me
As it took just one goodbye
to be forced to act like I don’t know you anymore

I heard my mom saying my body is a temple
When I stumbled drunk into your room
You took a bat to the already broken doors and windows of this building
Screaming that I’m good enough, good enough for you
then watching you roll over and ignore  my calls the next day at noon

I heard my mom say my body is a temple
When I realized mine is nothing more than the resting point along the way
Because temples are full of worship and love .
Something I have never felt inside these broken down doors and cracked walls
No my body is not a temple,
for I’m just  something you stop at because it’s beautiful,
but never the place you want to stay

Part of me wants to believe
that I'm important,
more important than the dirt we walk on
Part of me says that
I'm the equivalent of the grass
that is shredded in the lawnmower
Which am I?
It depends
maybe on the day,
maybe on the person
but to me
I'm just the wind blowing
on a cold day
that freezes your nose
and numbs your heart
I'm the kind of person
that you don't want to be.
the kind of person
that cries over everything.
The kind of person
that wants to believe she's good
but doesn't feel like she is
Tries, tries, tries but isn't
Who am I?
Who are you?
I'm a whisper
in the night,
overlooked.

I am not a poet.
I may write poems
but I am not a poet.
Poets speak pretty words.
I speak in a tongue no one knows,
not even me.
I am not a poet.
I am a girl,
with unspoken words
who gazes at trees.
I am a girl
with red hair and
watery eyes
but I,
I am not a poet.
I am not a poet.

Riding high on crests
Whispers hidden 'neath the waves,
Our desire to drown

Darkness consumes the room;
time is running out, the end is coming soon.

The moon grins wickedly,
waiting silently for the story to unfold.

Alone she stood in the corner,
eyes closed, but face plastered with horror
feeling the presence of the man who dared enter the house,
the house that blinded her soul.

The intruder observed her cautiously,
as she whispered ominously,
"It's coming, it's coming."

Turn back, warned a voice in the man's head,
but he stood there frozen like ice instead.

Suddenly, her pupilless eyes snapped open wide
as the wails from inside
escaped her mouth and shook the world.

Overwhelming malicious power surge through her
while her black-and-white vision began to blur.

Her hands clamped onto her head
as she collided with the ground.

With that, the man held his heart as she fell,
his lifeless body helping increase the pile of other dead souls.

"Hear the screams of death!" the female spirit proclaimed,
with a voice the sound of broken glass.

Then the banshee went to rest until the time came again.

I wonder
how our great creator
built a vessel
strong enough
to contain my soul?

Each day my spirit fights
against my skin with violent
jolts as a young bird
seeking exit from a cage.

Unfettered psyche
free from me
bounces among clouds
rolls through deserts,
climbs volcanic ridges
migrates with birds in flight.

Curious instincts guide
my vital force inside and out
like honey bees
scour zinnias in full bloom.

Dare I release my spirit today?