I want to save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
because she tells me it is my destiny,
and it is all in the email she sent me.

I want to save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
because she possesses many Riches,
and she has promised me all of them.

I want to save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
from her wretched uncle,
who will steal her wealth and lock her away.

I would save this Princess from Zimbabwe --
but she only needs my Government ID,
Bank Account and Social Security.

You were broken when I met you.
I didn't realize the extent.
When I pulled back from our embrace,
I was covered in blood...both yours and mine.
Yours from previous violence,
and mine from your jagged edges.
You could provide no treatment,
no care or sutures for either of our wounds,
and I was unable to stop the bleeding,
untrained in that kind of repair.
I bled for a long time.
Still bleeding, if I'm honest.
I've kept it undercover,
masked with bandages and gauze.
I've applied pressure, but it remains.
The blood still trickles. The pain persists.
I don't know if your injuries have healed,
as our damages carried us apart.
Too weak to reach out, I can only wonder.
Can only ask myself the questions,
lament the answers I've realized are true,
and carry on with the regret.
These wounds are overdue to be closed.
I think it's time I learned to sew.
To finally stop the bleeding.

righteous anger
please, let me go
I'm tired of running
but I can't remember
the way home

Always in a hurry
Like a butchers knife
Cutting through life
The world is in a hurry

Why don’t we just slow down
Don’t treat your time
Like it’s bad or a crime
Just try and slow down

Take a step back
And breath in it
For more than a minute
Time now to step back

This what you said?
You don't need me.
Never ever did.
Yes, this what you said?

But in reality at this present moment.
You do.
Or why I am the one you reaching out too?

You not alone.
Many have stated those same words too.

Least you put your pride aside.
But now this is my time to say, this what you said?
You don' need me.
So why you in need of my help now?

Rain sounds stir within
My very being
Sometimes I'm scared
Like a lost child
Looking for their mother
Seeking shelter
As rain increases
So do my fears
Of yesteryear and today
Soft patters of rain.
Reminders of dancing
In the rain
Rain rain go away
Come again another day
Perhaps when I'm ready
To weather the storm.
In my heart

wanting you,
or needing you,

leaves me in a
constant state
of confusion,

and focusing
on what I know
will not help me
reach a decision,

because all
I know is
you fill my
heart with an
iridescent sapphire

if
a star fell
to the earth
each time
i thought of You,

the sky
would be
void of light.

Maybe the darkest things are the truest things,
Death, the redoubtable lover of all, the atom bomb
Burns beneath cherry blossoms of closed eyelids,
A magnolia grove of forever fasting lips of the dead,
Pompeii and Hiroshima, twin lovers of rupture,
Graves of the wind now, keepers of nothing and all.

and we
won't just
  survive
    but we'll
      thrive till
        we're five
           and make
              peace with
                 our hearts
                     till we're
                         feeling
                              alive
                                   and my
                                        puppy-
                                               eyed
                                                     lover
                                                            will talk
                                                                   to the
                                                                          sky and
                                                                               we'll drift
                                                                                      through the
                                                                                              night till
                                                                                                      we're free

When facing the grim reality...
Beauty is thy best mirage;
Betrayal is thy best camouflage;
Intelligence is thy best entourage;
Friends are thy best collage;
You are thy best montage

I’m addicted to the feel of cold metal sliding across bare flesh
Addicted to the instant
when nothing marks smooth skin
immediately before
red rivers rapidly rise
painting a once white canvas
with a flood of emotion,
tears on my cheeks,
sobs caught in my throat,
numbness replaced by pain & sadness.
Addicted to the imperfection
of red welts and dotted scabs that follow,
fingers drawn like magnets
to the texture of healing skin,
tracing over and over and over now fading ridges
Amazed that I am strong enough
to heal myself over and over and over.
Convincing myself that I am strong enough.
I find strength in my weakness.

Thinking about getting a tattoo
But, I take pause...
Looking in the mirror
I see my body’s already covered
Marked in invisible ink
Every inch of my bare skin
Painted with the joy and pain of living
From my heart to my hips
Color faded here, but poppin’ over there
Memories designed by your hands
Others etched on my own
A collection that makes me smile
Among a few pieces I regret
So, about getting a tattoo...
I guess I’m not ready
Because I can’t think of a tattoo
Meaningful enough, yet
To write over any of the life I’ve lived

I.
I've bled
Till my veins run dry
My bones
Are shattered and broken
Withering

II.
The ink
From my pen drags,
Then pools and
Blots the page
As I let it
Fall

III.
All my energy
Siphoned from memories,
Has now diminished
I take my last breath
As  I allow
My small boat
To be pitched across
By the winds and waves

~Fin.

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

Why does it always feel like
no one's listening
when I talk?

Crust cut off sandwiches,
brush the knots out of my hair.
Turn the night light on.

Check-in my closet,
read me a bedtime story.
I love you, goodnight.

A rose blooming in a summer rose bed
stops to envy you as you smell the roses.
For two beauties sit in the picture,
but neither is the rose.
The sight of you is a wonder to my eyes,
one that keeps me warm through winter days.
The grace inside you is as beauty
and beyond my words to explain.
So when I fumble my syllables,
embrace me as the rose embraces the rain.

I realize this
is the end
we will become
strangers again

Break my bones;
cut my throat.
Pull me open,
learn the ropes.

Breath me in;
taste the fear.
Shank my skin;
stand and cheer.

Kick my head;
let me bleed.
Unbolt my veins;
enjoy the read.

Gouge my eyes;
punch my face.
Wrap me up
in your embrace.

the first time i broke a boy’s heart
i cried as i watched his love bleed for me
it poured out into my hands and still sticks to my hair this day
i smell its death in the wind

now, i break hearts with no pain, no remorse
i watch the light flee from their eyes and i no longer cry
what it’s like to be me?

feel nothing
create chaos
feel nothing

I want to write that in front of every achievement
I want to write it at the head of every poem I write

And I don’t think I will be able to create anything
At least, nothing I am proud of
Without an asterisk explaining
This is my depression work

For depression affects everything
Infects everything
Dims my worldview and
Makes me irrational, hypocritical and
Turns me into someone I am ashamed to be

Depression takes away half of my once-brilliant mind
It leeches off my creativity
Drains the enchanting, poetic optimism inside me
Until everything I think, everything I create, everything I am
Disgusts me

So
Just as a reminder
This is my depression work

The love you never had
The pain you always carried
The trust you never showed
The guilt you were consumed by
The joy you were seeking
The anger you held inside

The rest of them could never see
But I did
Because I was once like you

I fell in love with candlelight-
in my darkness, she shone so bright.
She danced the breeze, lit up the night,
her glow consumed my very sight.

But wax and wick both burn away,
and candlelight just cannot stay.
As sure as night turns into day,
that fickle flame will go astray.

But for a moment, through the storm,
she lit my world, she kept me warm,
then flickered out, as is the norm
for candlelight, its fleeting form.

I fell in love with candlelight,
for but a moment, all was right.
Her glow, her dance, consumed my sight,
and faded out at end of night.

The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do?

It wasn’t letting you go.

That was difficult though, to swallow my pride and wear a smile to hide the fact I’m not okay.

Oh no, the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do? Was finally admit to myself the truth.

It was admitting that you were never mine to begin with.

“Help” Yesterday 00:00
Text is left on “read”
But rightly I await reply
Dear effervescent spring spirit,
With all of your power to move
heaven and earth
Why can’t I hear from you
Even a singular sigh?
Up so high
Which just gave me
More room to fall
And still no reply

“Help” Yesterday and Today 24:00

Heaven rained on me,
I breathed in the petrichor,
Bathed in the downpour.

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 too *******.
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.

Poets remember
snows in July
and sweaty heatwaves in December.

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)

Wistful moonlight blush
Accents the dim of sorrow
For life unfulfilled