Blackberries dripping with Summer dew and
you with stains on your patterned shirt.

Alert to the possibility that death could be the death of me
I decline to climb the tallest tree and sit down on a rock.

I remember the taste
which was yesterday,
things taste differently today.

My thoughts are put down in the order of appearance
and not necessarily in the order of occurrence,
but you've probably noticed that.

And I'm watching a pink sash being slowly wound around an unbecoming sky.

words are like the squiggle in your eye
just out of reach and then they wiggle
then they die

“What were you doing in the closet?”

“Hanging my coat as it's depressed
and desires suicide.”

once you cross the
line with me, things
will never be the same
with us. i don't care
how old it is.

when they stand behind you
protect them

when they stand beside you
respect them

but when they stand against you
destroy them

I talk to the moon every night imagining it was you,
And now I’m in love with the moon.

I am spiralling down a dark well
mortar and stone grazing my knuckles and fingers
in their desperate plea to find a crack
a divet
anything to stop the spiral
but I continue to fall
black upon black
grey upon grey
deeper and deeper
the water is at my ankles
sinking
sinking
sinking now
into putrid sludge of what I do not want to remember
swept into the dark ocean cave
of my mind

This pen & paper knows a lot about her
It's her life,
Her journey & little more of imagination.

It relates her
Rather completes her.

Because Somewhere
She is Forlorn,
sad with day's drama.

Her journey gets a shape,
Word, sentence through it.

She finds peace in them.

Atleast, they don't ditch her.
They always exist when she needs them.

This pen and paper knows a lot about her,
It's her innervoice, which the world doesn't know.

She's a puppet on a string
with a wave of your hand you can make her do anything
everything went black
she wasn't ready for this attack
and neither was I
so I vowed that I wouldn't let them see me cry

I broke my walls down for you

but then you reminded me

why I built them so high

You consume me
I'm not stopping you

You're stabbing me
Because I'm asking you

I'm hurting you
By letting you hurt me

and i see it
i do
but im not stopping

I want to write my own story
But sadly I only hold the pen of a poet
Not the pen of destiny

Mixed with shame,
A tint of red that calls my name.
Tiptoe around the subject,
Or else you’ll see me burst.
Holding all these things inside
Makes me feel worse.

Pop bottle
effervescence
speaking sense
not non sense
Don't spill it
and pour it quick
for the people
in the garden
playing bingo
trying to be
supercilious

She is a hive full of
Sweetness.
But , never far from
the sting .

“I see you “ she smiles
as she touches my face .

Upstairs she lies
with coverlets and curtains.

I am searching
and searching.
But , for what
I’m not sure .

Maybe diamonds
but probably
Fireflies and Lace .

Working towards not
losing my shadow.

My inertia’s held
prisoner
to her beauty
my moral vision
called and questioned.
The death of leaves ,
stranded on the high wire
in the back of beyond.

The heart
Sings
Like a bird
But it's the mind
That must
Listen

#micropoetry

Does it hurt? Loving someone you will never meet?

I don't believe in soul mates
What I do believe in
Is people that connect
On some deeper level
Immediately upon acquaintance
And not meaning you agree
On where to eat for dinner
But the connection where your heart
Seems to slip out
Of your rib cage
Because it's found a home
Outside of your chest.

I write about
People I love

But I'm afraid
to write
about you

Just in case
you don't
love me back

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.

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.

"Are you okay?"

                           I'm always hurt,
                          Always in pain,
                          Every inch of my being
                          writhing.
                          An­d if you could fathom the
                         chaos in my head,
                         So monsterous that I pray you
                        never come to understand it.

                        Every moment of every day my
                        soul cries,
                       And if you looked into my eyes
                       you'd see it all...
                       Everything I hide behind a smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Call me lis, please
Why?
It's shorter than
Heartless.
That's what everyone else calls me.

Without these words
I am nothing but dust and bone

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.

If a writer
Falls in love with you
       you can never
                die................