Every letter I type is a drop of me
eyes so full of life
they drop a tear
and in that bead
that pearl rolling down my cheek
is sadness, joy, care or grief
the sweat of my heart.

Falling down into the dark abyss
Reaching my hands out
Can't get out
Freedom is hard
When your thoughts are pulling you down
I need your help come see me now
I just need someone to talk this out.

If I **** this world,
is it not suicide.
The same world we live in,
is the same blood of human,
Where we all reside.

i walk to the podium
with my crimes
and doings
the chains around my wrists and ankles
black bruises and tears graves on my face
i look up at the jury and take my sentence
as the words came to me as white noise
i was sentenced to eternity
and forever sleep

They’d waited too long to say

“I love you”.

3 words. 3 syllables.

Yet they held millions of emotions unspoken.

and now that they’d done it, they wouldn’t,
couldn’t, stop

they told each other all the time. In the end of the argument and before the good news.

In the middle of the storm, even though it was hard to see, and after, when the raging winds had settled on a breeze

before the rising sun turned the sky pretty colors and after it flickered out and faded away into the dark

Underneath the stars that their love had been etched into

There was no love until death for them. Because it would never stop. Their love was beyond. It rose above any border that would dare to try and stop it. There was no finish line

because they were each other’s end game.  
-L.R

There is a fire inside you
Like that of a rising sun.
You’re the promise of a new dawn
Like the purple and the orange of the setting sun.

You’re the sound of the Ocean
That can still be heard inside a shell
after a million days.
You’re the poem and the rhythm in it
And finer when they words don’t rhyme.

You are stronger than your past,
Stronger than your doubts
And even stronger than your fears.

You are more than what they tell you
And much more than you thought you could ever be.
You my dear, are beautiful and complete
Because the fire inside you is, YOU.

i believed in seeing candles
i paused to hear your breathing
flames that faint and flicker that way
don’t have the heart to burn through ceilings

Love is like a squid
really odd and weird
all this time it hid
then suddenly appeared

Making you fall deep
down to the oceans floor
taking a giant leap
where you've not been before

and suddenly it's gone
sometimes in a blink
but poems like this live on and on
written with it's ink

Why is poetry dying
when we still have the gift?
If we still have water
then we still have a ship.
We can sail to the places
these words take us.
We are still shaken
by the words that make us.
Why should we let poetry die
when there is so much to explore?
If only people read it
and discovered more.

we're pennies in a fountain, love,
and you keep me wondering,
with the edge of rust around your smile,

does your coppery hand touch mine,
or is that only the cement below us?

does the world slow around us,
or is that only the water obscuring sound and light?

do flower petals float on the breeze, falling around us in summer wind,
or are they just wilting in chlorinated water?

are we really meant to be, are we really two pieces of a whole,
or were we just tossed next to each other by accident?

Whisper broken promises
I’ve heard them all before

Tell me all your excuses
I have them memorized word for word

Tell me pretty lies
Nothing you can do is new

The precedent was set before I was born-
Before anything had to do with you.

Just please promise you will stay
Because he never did.

Now I sit here and wait
Waiting for your text,
Waiting for his call,  
Or for the letter signed-
         Love,
                  Dad

time will heal
and silently
collect the scars
that are
meant to be
left in the past

after all
love
simply isn't enough
to make us last.

Eating my beyond burger with a fork and knife,
drag race in the background,
my Samantha doll by my side.
This isn't loneliness anymore.
This is just life now.

I'm not very good with words anymore,
maybe I never was.
So little has changed and yet everything has.
I still long for love.
I still want to be wanted.
That might never change.

Yet now this lonely world is one I've come to accept,
come to love.
I may be my only friend here,
but that's one more than last year.

Nothing I create is good,
but I'm learning to create anyway.
I'm learning to share my bad art,
at least it's art.
Right?

I dream of slitting the throat of the dog next door.
Someone outta shut him up.
I used to think that was an evil thought,
now I know there's no such thing.

I turn 21 in 2 days.
Math. Yuck.
I'm old,
getting older every second.
Whatever.
I will grow into this skin,
I'm sure of it.
Maybe.

I'm grateful.
More than anything I am grateful for it all.
The pain,
the pleasure,
the guilt,
the anger.

Pills,
family,
friends,
dolls.

No one reads these except me.
So this one is for her.
For you.
Anne,
my love,
my villain,
my biggest fear.

May this year be kind to you,
may you be kind to it.
May you listen to your spirit guides,
may you accept what you never could.

Growth is sticky and wet,
Knowledge is thick and grey.
May you be the light and the darkness,
the cut and the band aid.

More than anything,
be okay.
You're gross,
in a sort of beautiful way.
May you be okay with that.
Truly.




Bad art is still art.
Right?
I think so.
For now.

To this day,
your name
still hurts my tongue
but I still say it anyway.
Sometimes I like to
hear my soul
gently tear itself
apart.

In the cold, dark
        of January,
         I remembered
              you
        the most.
  As the chill
      snapped bones
              like branches,
     as the afternoons
   bathed themselves
in gray,
     as the birds
and the backs
      shook,
so did my lips
   around your name.
I'm so happy
     January is almost
over now.

Everytime I close my eyes,
I see my world burning down.
There's this fire behind my eyelids
that the tears can't put out.

In a bus, sat an old couple
and held each other’s hands.
Two hands were clenched together,
as they had when they were just born.

They were at peace with what would arrive,
yet sweaty and energized like they had been
when they played in the green grounds
as little, naive boys.

Six decades of intimacy
running through their minds.
Both chanted and repeated prayers
and wishes for each other and others.

They were mid-desert
but their bond well-irrigated.
Their fields had borne flowers.
And water was plenty.

What had happened was that
a band of robbers had attacked.
They threatened to ****
and so, they did.

Alice fell down the rabbit-hole
Tired of making daisy chains
There lurked a world so full of soul
Alice fell down the rabbit-hole
A knave was tried for tarts he stole
The Queen of Hearts likes to complain
Alice fell down the rabbit-hole
Tired of making daisy chains

Green leaves turning brown
Trees discarding their old clothes
Lots of leaves to rake

lifes like a cheap dress
does not fit us
tell me the last resort
replant or stand naked

Memories encroach on a star speckled consciousness,
How the sun felt in years gone by.
What was life like when happiness sprouted from the earth?
How mud splattered flower child was taught to be quiet.
We spend years relearning that we are birthed of stars,
Only to let simple vibrations of air
Crumble war torn castles of consciousness.