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)

Life makes you dream.
Life smashes them.
The constant cycle of the mortal.
That's life.

Yet

The sooner you see the thorn in heaven,
the sooner you see the bud of the rose in hell,
and you will be free.

Now, that's life.

and I never knew you
and you’ll never know me
but when I think

of you it’s your name,
like the clouds
cradle your memory,

over Star City or as
far as England,
or maybe flying,

sunlight signal,
a teenaged smile
never not alive,

forever with your
future years at the
tips of your fingers

A soul is wrought
from the dust of stars
and sewn together
Tapestry of scars
in dawn sky hues
unraveled to find
the fickle muse
of a broken mind

I keep biding my time
and biting my tongue.

What's an appropriate amount of time,
how long do I wait to say it?

Of you
Of your voice
Of your lies
Of your fake smile
Of your fake love
And when I see you with her
After you called to say your flight was late
I know I’m tired
Of my love for you

When I look at you,
I don’t see darkness
I don’t see rain
I don’t see pain

When I speak to you,
I don’t feel sadness
I don’t feel neglect
You always show respect

When I think of you,
It gives me strength
Because you’re so bright
My brightest light

When I dream of you,
I find myself in your arms
Right where I belong
Right where I feel strong

When I fell in love with you,
I knew it was true
Because you drowned my sorrows
And now I can see tomorrow

She
left her eyes
in
my eyes...

She
left her breath
in
my lungs..

She
left her smile
in
my face..

She
left her grace
in
my expression..

She
left her voice
in
my ears...

She
left her butterfly
in
my heart..

She
left her laugh
in
my cloud..

She
left her memories
in
my dreams..

She
left her absence
in
my tears...

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

the night my life changed
i was wearing
a white dress
with blue and red
flowers

and you were wearing
well, actually
it doesn't
matter

the night my life changed
it was dark
and you were drunk
and somehow
it was my fault

Dear death,

I have met life,
He wants me to fight,
But I'm so weak-
So can we meet?

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

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

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love."
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."

Tired eyes
Fleetingly scanning the room.
To find another pair
With a light behind them.
Even with exhaustion,
Shining bright
Bright as your own mind,
Connecting the light with the dark.
Making it easier to breathe,
Letting shadows disappear.
Calm eyes.
Reassured.

We don’t see the carrots to be cut,
We see the sharp knife that could cut us.

We don’t see the bridge,
We see the other side of the railings.

We don’t see painkillers,
We see medication we could drown ourselves in.

We don’t see the train,
We see the tracks we could lay on.

We don’t see the nice view,
We see the cliff's edge we could jump off.

An emergent crimson light
settles after the rain
The ******* bended  knees
kissed the morning dew
and bid her classmates goodbye
The elm leaves flurried, from the eastern wind

The Nuns in their dark sanctuary
closed their hearts to aging
and forgiveness

The pale girl averted her gaze
from her music teacher
and walked to the duck pond instead

I come
To you today
With yet another scheme
For a wild, foolish adventure.
Coming?

suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option
suicide is not an option

My words became
knives.
A paragraph,
a sword.
And when I
made
my first speech,
the room
                was
                        hit
                             with
                                            a
                                                    grenade.

Sometimes, I love you.
Sometimes, I don't.
That's just the way it is.

Sometimes, I adore you.
Sometimes, I don't?
Accept it, deal with it?
Cause that's just the way it is.
But I wouldn't have it any other way.

Because loving you became a good thing.

keep your eyes closed love.

           e     t      
       m           i
    o                 m
s                        e  
                            s     all you have to
                                                                ­
                                                                ­ l                  is to what the sound
                                                           ­      i            n
                                                  ­                s           e
                                                               ­          t

                                                              ­                               v
                                                               ­                         a        e
                             ­                                          of the  w               s
                                                               ­                                       
                         ­                                                                 ­            tells  you
                                                                ­                                        to do.

When I say
that you are my Sun,
I don’t mean that you are
Luminous,
Brilliant,
Gilded,
Beautiful,
Bold,
Warm,
Or even the center of my universe.
I simply mean that
I cannot look at you
Without hurting

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.

I’m wrapped in a netherworld
between fear and urgent turmoil
a shady region of late twilight
on the edge of dreadful night
what to do with the light.

Like the nightingale whose song
brings pausing, sadness, and hope,
blinking in a landscape of plains and *****
sadness of a creative life’s ending
a blending of sand and the hand of God.

My gut clinched in a tempest
rowing unknowing for shining sky.