I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

That one's love were not real
To have dark doubts hide it.
That life, be it as unreal as--
Nowadays must run & fight for it.

(...as it were).

Giggling to hide her pain
Laughing to cover her tears
She waits for him to come
Even when he is right next to her
She waits and waits
But slowly is losing faith
That someday he will truly come
And will fall immensely in love with her
Like he said he had in his letters
And all his claims will no longer be
Just plain words on a piece of paper.

A rock fell on a bird
knocking it down
rather than helping
I left it on the ground

For if I moved the rock
and the bird was unscathed
it would surely fly off
leaving me for better days

and all that I would have
would be the memory
of the happiness I once had
the love that used to be

So instead I leave the rock
That traps the bird here
held in place by the weight
while I'm held by fear

Someone once told me :
always remember that,
some people come into your life to make chaos.
and some people and come into your life to show love.

Some people will use you
Some people will always be there for you
Some people will be true
Some people will lie
Sometimes you will learn from a mistake
Sometimes you fall and that’s okay.

Sometimes you’ll  fall in love to hard
Sometimes you’ll cry alone
But you’ll be okay even if you’re alone

Today is the day
Guess I might as well write this
Happy Haiku Day

I spend too many nights thinking
Wondering, writing, dreaming
Of someone who doesn't even think of me

i still
do not know
the poem i've been trying to write
and maybe
that's because
i haven't been
writing one at all
or maybe it's because
the poem i've been trying to write
is not ready for paper
and maybe
i'm the paper
that's not ready for it

It's my humility that makes me especially wonderful!

There were segments of you through this world mirror parallel..

Increase the mystery of your smile as your tears leave behind light trails.

I can't find you anywhere..

Even though I can make the anywhere...

This control let me give in..

And it also let me reverse all of my sins..

And through all the magical haze..

You are still lost in my dream maze..

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

i spend my days
pouring myself into the cups of others

only to find that
when it’s time for myself
to take a sip

all that’s left
in my cup
is the remainder of a girl
who gave too much

She was like
a sunflower
who looked
for the sun
even on a
rainy day

I traced the texture of your words
Like my heart was blind
And your voice was braille

She was a thrifted sweater and denim and jersey knit sheets
Pizza breath and red wine and toothpaste
Alabaster skin and knotted hair and freckled shoulders
A tangible dream and my favorite good morning
She agreed to let me kiss her and I agreed to let her slip my shirt over my head before she became
Blood and tears
"I trusted you" and "I’m sorry"
Midnight poems and a drunk "I need you"
I’m afraid I loved you like the way I wrote

My entire life,
I have been waiting.
For years,
Almost two decades now
I have been waiting.
Waiting,
For the better parts.
Waiting,
For the “soon”.
Waiting,
For my life to begin.
Because,
I don’t feel like I have lived.
In the nearly twenty years
I have been alive
And breathing
I do not feel
In any of those years
That I have been alive.
I don’t feel like a single breath
That I have taken
Has been real.
I feel as if
All these years
I’ve been stuck
Behind a window
Watching as my life unfolds
Before me.
I feel that
I have had
Zero control.
That I am in the backseat
Letting someone else drive.
That someone else,
Is writing on the pages
Of MY life.
But no more.
I will break that window,
I will take that wheel,
And I will write
My own pages.
My life has begun,
And now -
I’m in control.

The truth is difficult.
It's not this sweet release of freedom,
The weight on my chest remains,
Pressing deeper and burrowing,
Until I'm left gasping for air.
There is no sense of clarity,
Or a rainbow of revelations.
The truth is both hurtful and hurting.
It aches and festers,
Leaves scars that cannot be erased.
Can we not at last acknowledge,
That the truth is difficult.

i want to love you
like a lazy sunday morning
staying in bed
taking our time
sipping coffee
memorising every freckle
like the constellations in the sky
white sheets
and tangled limbs
with the scent of a memory
fresh on our lips.

I'm sinking farther into the sea
Air cut off, unable to breathe

But it's not all too bad
The water's warm
and the fish look nice

It's a shame I can only see this
By myself
at the end.

You.
Are.
A.
Walking.
Masterpiece.

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems like *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.