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

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.

with dreams of you upon my lips,
i slept like the world was mine to keep.

I lose myself
in flowers

in the wonder
that beauty still
blooms, up from
cracked earth

in the promise
of perennials

in both demure
gardens
and wild, tangled
fields

sun drenched
kneeling in dirt
for hours

I lose myself
in flowers

nothing more to say,
everything to gain,
nothing to weep for,
i got no answers

You’re more than just a “4 minute” memory, cause with you I genuinely felt that 4ever energy.

Come be more than this fabricated man I’ve  forged into my poetry
Cause baby,
I want you to be the one who endlessly gives it all to me.

It’s important to use our heads
In times like these
If we let our emotions overtake us
We might be indefinitely chasing our tails

(Now Read From Bottom Up)

A tree won't have its fruit
with just the sunlight alone.
It needs rain—that's a simple truth.

It's taken me years
Of writing and reading,
Living,
Giving and receiving,
Love
To realise;
Love is simple
It's humans
That are complicated

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

Arc of moons and hearts
Bending to the pull of tides
Crying to be whole

let us
do only all the things we wish we could, if our lust and love was not so secret.

not just dream but see, touch and taste the mossy nectar of our wavy
pinkish, glistening seas
above and
beneath an ocean of silken sheets.

-By Alexandra Eames

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

Please stay a little longer
Until the spring flowers bloom
I promise that by then
I'll be done forgetting you

i wonder if you remember
the presence of me
because i’m constantly reminded
by your faded memory

it lingered in the Sunday laundry
and ghoulishly appeared in a frame
popped up on the car radio
and frightened me all the same

as i packed your things,
it was in a card for my birthday
and eerily in a box of frosted flakes
i guess i never liked them anyway

later, it would quietly permeate
a passing tv commercial for charmin
remember how we used to laugh
i have those memories every now and then

i hope where you are is better
than where we were together

i wonder if you remember
the presence of me
because i was constantly reminded
by your faded memory

Lovely woman, grow old gracefully.
Don’t live your life to please men’s eyes.
The artist of time transfers beautifully
to your inward self not to some stranger’s eye.
The paint you wear only counterfeits you.
Enjoy this as your finest hour.
Live as you must with grace and power.
Love lets me marvel at you in love’s eyes

The simplest form of
I love you is
I miss you…

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.

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

My soft beating heart needs complete peace
I want my soul to heal and rest at ease.

I'm bleeding from inside,
I want to run, I want to hide.

Wandering all alone in the midst of the crowd,
I hear my silence screaming out loud.

I am tired and could barely stand up
I want my heart to slowly mend up.

My dripping heart agonizes for peace,
Indeed, after every hardship comes an ease.
~Neha Khan

the only thing that keeps
away the darkness
is the light
i burn within myself.

so i  have been half flame
half smoke,
half light
half shadow,
half myself
        half someone else.  

this isn’t a way to exist;
it’s a way to survive.

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.

If I see it
then it is

If I hear it
then it is

If I taste it
then it is

If I read it
then it's
a different
story

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

I know where this path leads.

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.

It’s been so long
I didn’t recognize the
number on the call.
You asked if I wanted
to catch up, I should’ve
just hung up.
- blocked.

I'm dark
and light,
a spark
at night.

The moth
and flame,
I'm both
the same.

I lust.
At most,
I'm dust
and ghost.

what does it feel like to be held
not by another body
not by a set of limbs, a chest, a chin
but
by another soul

what does it feel like
to see truth in another pair of eyes
instead of hidden intentions
instead of absence

what does it feel like
to hear a familiar heartbeat
resounding next to your own
reaching through skin
through bone
two rhythms
indistinguishable

what does it feel like
to write poems about
a love that exists

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)