Winter makes me always cold,
can’t see God in nature unfolding
The sun would be my companion
instead my faith goes phantoming
I want internal strength and grit
instead with growth and fear I’m fitted.
My character dull, worn like a knife
and I’ve no ideas in its righting.

You see the slump in my shoulders
the way I carry myself
the burdens of boulders
that threaten my health.

When you ask what's wrong
I pull up my guard
don't want your pity or sad song
won't tell you why life's hard.

So if you want to know
I'll bottle it inside
wrap up all remains in a black bow
and tell you I'm fine.

Tes yeux sont si profonds qu'en me penchant pour boire
J'ai vu tous les soleils y venir se mirer
S'y jeter à mourir tous les désespérés
Tes yeux sont si profonds que j'y perds la mémoire

À l'ombre des oiseaux c'est l'océan troublé
Puis le beau temps soudain se lève et tes yeux changent
L'été taille la nue au tablier des anges
Le ciel n'est jamais bleu comme il l'est sur les blés

Les vents chassent en vain les chagrins de l'azur
Tes yeux plus clairs que lui lorsqu'une larme y luit
Tes yeux rendent jaloux le ciel d'après la pluie
Le verre n'est jamais si bleu qu'à sa brisure

Mère des Sept douleurs ô lumière mouillée
Sept glaives ont percé le prisme des couleurs
Le jour est plus poignant qui point entre les pleurs
L'iris troué de noir plus bleu d'être endeuillé

Tes yeux dans le malheur ouvrent la double brèche
Par où se reproduit le miracle des Rois
Lorsque le coeur battant ils virent tous les trois
Le manteau de Marie accroché dans la crèche

Une bouche suffit au mois de Mai des mots
Pour toutes les chansons et pour tous les hélas
Trop peu d'un firmament pour des millions d'astres
Il leur fallait tes yeux et leurs secrets gémeaux

L'enfant accaparé par les belles images
Écarquille les siens moins démesurément
Quand tu fais les grands yeux je ne sais si tu mens
On dirait que l'averse ouvre des fleurs sauvages

Cachent-ils des éclairs dans cette lavande où
Des insectes défont leurs amours violentes
Je suis pris au filet des étoiles filantes
Comme un marin qui meurt en mer en plein mois d'août

J'ai retiré ce radium de la pechblende
Et j'ai brûlé mes doigts à ce feu défendu
Ô paradis cent fois retrouvé reperdu
Tes yeux sont mon Pérou ma Golconde mes Indes

Il advint qu'un beau soir l'univers se brisa
Sur des récifs que les naufrageurs enflammèrent
Moi je voyais briller au-dessus de la mer
Les yeux d'Elsa les yeux d'Elsa les yeux d'Elsa.

what am i doing?
other than my constant overthinking
oh help me find my direction,
bring me to my resurrection.
lost, confused, cold and scared,
begging life for me to be spared.
i can’t see my end,
something i can’t comprehend.
oh, misty day
please don’t lead me astray.

And am forced to make sense of everything
People cling to emotional stuff
And shove love down our throats

I care she said
That's why my tears never dry whenever you are far from here

That's why I die a little
Cause my brother felt sadnes
And my sister stumbled
And suddenly family is everything

But you have to wonder
What happens to family
If greed takes over

And the love for possessions
Takes away the love
And its value increases
And suddenly you care
And you care so much about the earth
And the wealth that blinds
Most if not all

But you don't care about them
Or love
And suddenly they
Ain't everything
But MONEY is everything

He feasted on his pie in the sky,
got fat off all his fantasy.
Stumbled back into the here and now,
and denied the rations of reality.

Heavy Heavy Rains...
Under the Old Umbrella
Holes here and there.
Drenched in some time.
Still Blame the Rains.

Someone asked me to draw
Draw what heartbreak looks like
I finally got tired of drawing a broken heart
And I started drawing you

this it cannot be explained.
i cannot wish it away.
every return yields the same.
I want to stay, but I drift further away.
where I go I can't say.
I wonder when I will finally get to that last day.

life wasn't meant to be fighting pain.

mental illness is the
most expensive thing
i've ever owned but
never wanted

I never knew this
"Favorite" has two syllabus
I thought it has three.

Do you think a girl could love a boy who writes for her a million poems?  That's what I plan to do.

eggs
milk
sugar
-
-
-
-
love
respect
your heart

For 9 years
It’s sat on my desk,
Through a move,
Through winters with windows open
For 9 years,
sitting, watching

Tonight I take it down
Remember the girl who made it
Way back in 3rd grade
I unfold it
For the first time
Scribbled in the wings
She had scrawled a note

I have a crush on you

Nine years,
This declaration has sat on my desk
Watching me
Letting me look back to better times
All the while
Telling me she liked me
On the wings of a sticky note crane

as she trudged up the mountain
        ^
      / \
    /     \
  /         \
/             \
victory pulsing through her veins

badum badum badum badum

her eyes set intently on the peak

a deathly stare

she knew she could do anything

anything at all

she was anything but meek

this world is not for the meek

A poet is no more than a person
A mother
A daughter
A lover  
Someone needing release
Or someone needing to recover


It’s the art they create when that ball of ink or stick of led dances on the canvas they so perfectly prepared.
And when the end result and their purpose become perfectly paired.

Here we look
Over the city
Admiring the lights

Then I look
Over my shoulder
As I’ve realized

You’re my light

I'm jealous of the rain
It gets close to you
Closer than I ever will
It touches your skin
It combs your hair
It comes when you're sad
It stays when you're happy
I love you but you don't love me
So I say
I'm jealous of the rain

She takes the stand
With the voice of millions on her back
And speaks the fact that we all know,
far too well to be true -                  
                                           Me too.

She is heard but not believed,
She is heard with faith deceived .

When will it be enough -
Is one in six not enough ?
Is one sister, one friend
still - not enough?

one colleague, one mother, one wife, one lover -
one teacher, one doctor, one preacher, one author -
one husband, one son, one brother.
Which one will it take, to stop
the non-consensual clock
and make us realise that -

Time. Is. Up.

you might not
have been my first love
but you were the one
who hurt the most.

Winter

The sun
Now shortened
It goes crying in
Deprived
Of kissing
Your perfect
Soft skin

Winter sunrise on my last and longest day

Wrap me in a winding sheet of flaming orange

Take the reds and pinks from midnight blue to make my shroud

Let me rest in heaven fire

Drown my tired soul in colour

Drinking the final carnival

Warmth for my bones

A funeral of skies and wonders

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.

escaping the stifled claws of society
she gulps the tangled energy
vibrantly gleaming
but not quite beaming
she rewinds back
back to a crisp January morning
when the walls didn’t scream
and life was a dream

When my eyes met
hers for the first time,
they spelled the word “love”

light comes
dark arises
smoke emerges
water encapsulates
he is your savior
he is your soldier
trap him in a box
for sure it was like a fox
clear, rare and bare
unknowingly magic
and a bit ironic
he tames your flames
he also burn your bridges
he is a more
you will never be sure
until it fires up
in your heart
it become an art
continue burning
continue loving

xoxo

On the hard days,
The sad days,
The I miss you days,
Please come snuggle days,
On the days when emotions are more mountain and less mole hill,
More swing and less steady,
On the days when you gave your best and still felt short,
I am here,
Rooting for you!
You are always enough
Exactly as you are!