She is...
Chasing a heart for four years...
A heart that she knows will never be hers
A heart which already been broken by someone
Even knowing that she is chasing a miracle
But She still chooses to chase...

New beginnings...
Changes that are happening as I walk...
A *** of gold awaits...
Do I take what I worked for?
Do I leave it to shred.

When he first spoke my name,
It was like nectar dripping into my heart,
Like a flower my love began to bloom for him,
Soon to fall away because of his indifference.
5/12/2021

You’ll make me laugh till the end of my days.
Finding your eyes is the calm of deep ocean.
I am never here unless here is with you.
Despite the masculinity which oozes in your facade, I feel warm and safe in your presence.
It’s as if your soul duty is to put a smile on my face, and when yours drops, you find solitude with me.
You called me your twin flame once, and I wonder if that’s true.
We are far from peas of the same pod, but for each other seems right.
In all the ways to find people in this world, I’m glad to have found my way to you.
Or the other way around.

A heart that doesn't beat love
Is nothing
but a woeful hut.

Their music surely shaped my life
As I grew into adulthood.
She loves you, yea, yea, yea, while
We drifted in yellow submarines
Within psychedelic seas.
The split that ripped our hearts apart
Screamed that he was dead, but
I can still hear blackbirds
Singing in my head.

I was falling
for you

the feeling of
being weightless

the sky and
the ocean are
blue

like your eyes

your eyes and
Einstein’s brain

are the depths
I can never reach

but I will drown trying
to reach either or both

I used to grow flowers.
Pretty little petals
Sprouted from letters.
Into pretty little paragraphs
Sprouted from words.

Now I only grow lonely.
Ugly little concepts
Sprouted from doubts
Into fetid thoughts
Sprouted from desolation.

And if these could be my last
few words to the world,
And if this could be my last
poem to be written,
Torned out entirely, but rigid inside
Sad by looking, but happy inside,
I would write, one word, "Companion".

u see the knife
you watch the glow
u see me smile
but can't hear me cry
u think i'm happy
but inside i'm breaking
u see the blood
then u realize
that i wasn't
lying
when i said
i'm depressed!
u wish u gave me the
support i needed
but now it's too late.
I'm dying inside...

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)

I don't feel special,
I'm not unique.
I want to cry
but I can't even speak.
My hands reach out,
but they cannot hold
a single thing
but the bitter cold.
Everything's frozen,
I feel lost.
Even my tears
have turned to frost.
When I cut my waist
it bleeds black.
I'm so deeply gone
there's no way back.
This is goodbye

Yesterday was a bruiser
Today’s real contrary
Tomorrow’s undecided
But I’m remaining wary

It takes me
perhaps a few minutes,
at most,
to write a poem.

In the brief instant
between
creation and publication,
I am convinced
that this poem cannot be
improved.

But note,
it is never the claim,
that the poem is
any good.

I write
so that I may express
what I had genuinely felt
for a few moments.

I opened up so you could see
a broken piece of my humanity

Nails
Hammered into crevices
Corroding the mind
That is already scarred
Scared not of consequence
But of scolding
For releasing the pain
Brings pain to more
Yet, if it cannot be removed
What else is nevermore?

All I know
Is how
I feel

And sometimes I
Wish I
Knew nothing

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."

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.

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

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

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.

When I was little
I was scared
Scared of the monsters living under my bed
I used to hide, under my blanket
Under my blanket, I was safe
The monsters couldn’t reach me under my blanket

My parents used to say
The monsters would go away
I would grow up and that then they would leave

But I grew up
And the monsters didn’t leave
Turns out my monsters, grew with me
Now instead of under my bed
The monsters live inside my head

So I hide, under my blanket
Where I think I am safe
Wondering if after all this time
My blanket can still keep the monsters at bay

Snowflakes are falling
Heart locked in a block of ice
No fire in sight

I feel you
within the ink
of every word I write

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.

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.

for once I was believing in myself
believing there could be something I
could be good at, decent at, something
I didn't have to fail at: but before
I even got to do it I became interrupted,
obstructed in this belief: for once I felt
I could be empowered, I could explore
myself through something but now that courage
and confidence I thought I could grab
seems far away from me. I feel defeated
and broken before I could bloom.
Please, water me, so that I can continue on.
I know you cannot bloom for me, but please,
water me. Please give me sun.