Searched, for a lifetime, to discover
a single example of magic in our reality.
Eventually, I discovered
it's all magic!

You terrified me.
You are too much.
You are outrageous, wild and free.
All the things,
I wish,
I could shamelessly be.
You made me feel things
that I didn’t even know
existed in me.
From the feeling
of self doubt and disbelief,
that you could actually love someone like me.
To the warm fuzzy feeling,
that tingled in my belly,
& the swelling in my heart.
A rush that overfilled me.
From the love you gave to me.
I could see these feelings were no lies.
I know the truth spoke from those eyes.
It terrified me,
so I ran
&
I hid.
I never felt such a thing.
You made me feel things
I didn’t know exist.

The rain has
Washed away
Some part of me
So even in sun
I drip.

Here lie secrets
Barely out of reach
All the things
Out there with no
Words to speak
Show me
A child’s game
love only knows
What I’ll never tell
And ever will
A world
Full of mysteries
forget
Line thrills
And take me
by my words
Never realize the things
I can’t escape; I live
No chance but to walk
On forward into
forever stays
closed at night
But when the sun comes back
I’ll rise to my death
Because believe me
Secrets never keep

sway
with the trees
swirl
in the breeze

burn
with the sky
ask
the stars why

sing
with the rain
feel
the earth's pain

I wear makeup to work,
So people treat me better.

I work with fish.
I get covered in slime.
I don't make tips.
(Not that, that is acceptable)
I have a fiance.
I'm off market.
I'm not there to impress anyone.

No makeup.
I'm ignored.
My credentials are questioned more.
They pick fights.
They behave poorly.

With makeup well,
I only have to deal with one creepy person.

I wear makeup to work,
So people treat me better.

distance made a deal with time
to keep you away from me
but little do they know
i tell the moon how much i love you every night
and she whispers it in your dreams

so you always know

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

The glass of water shattering,
in my imagination and almost beyond
like everything else in so many ways
but not me, never me;
I am... the safety
I am the padding of the cell
I am the broken fuse allowing all the light to shine.
I am the possibility that smothers the fear in cradle.

never sin before a mirror,
for it will never forget
no matter if it's no big deal
or your greatest regret.
it won't shame you,
it won't hurt you,
it won't blackmail you, nor bribe
but if a mirror knows a secret,
you’re as good as dead inside.

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

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.

PURE LOVE
Come to me and speak aloud; l love your voice.
Your words combined with your smile make me rejoice.
When you sit beside my seat and start to speak,
all the objects in the room at your eyes keek.

Your eyes join your words to send my heart a call,
which l have been waiting for; it is my goal.
When l see you cheering up in front of me,
you make all my world as l want it to be.

Great's my joy when l see you requite my love,
and agree to share my nest as my white dove.
Our world will be so white and full of joy
as our love is purest gold, not an alloy.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

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

and it took this long
to realize you never meant much to me
to realize that I never meant anything to you

I have wasted too much time and tears on you
slowly developing an attachment that
even after all these years,
life continues;
you aren't my sunrise, or my sunset

time is wasted when you wait for those things to come about

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

I thought you loved. You left.
2. I reached. Fingers brushed. Warmth built.
3. Cloud of angry words. Still standing.

What is seen is temporary
What is unseen is eternal

I live on borrowed time
but I will gladly spend it with you

My days are numbered
but I will gladly count it with you

Emotions are hard
Hard to feel
Hard to share

It’s so much easier to offer a mirror
And let others
              See what they want to see
              Hear what they want to hear

Offering authenticity is complicated
                    Snarled
Full of light
              and dark
                       and confusion

Sometimes I don’t want to look
I don’t want to see
I don’t want to know

                   I don’t want to feel

But a shallow existence only works for so long
To grow, we must grow roots
To connect, we must expose our underbelly

Will you be worthy of my truth?
Will you face it with me?
Will you meet my vulnerability with your own?

I can only wish
And hope
And believe

That you will

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.

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.

𝗞𝗶𝗿𝗸 𝗗𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗹𝗮𝘀 𝘀𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗿𝗺𝗲𝗱 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗮𝘀 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝘆 𝗠𝗶𝗸𝗲,
𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗼𝗻, 𝘄𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗼𝗼𝘇𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘀𝗺𝗮 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘀 &
𝗰𝘂𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗠𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗴. 𝗞𝗶𝗿𝗸 𝗿𝗮𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝟮
𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀, 𝘀𝗼𝗳𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗱, 𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗮 𝗯𝗮𝗹𝗹 & 𝗳𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝘀𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝟳 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗱𝘀.

Mourning dove sitting
On weeping willow
Droopy flowers gazing
Downward
Floppy eared dog
Waiting to walk
Buzzing sound of bee
Babies crying
Melancholy fills the
Morning air
Perhaps a full moon
Will appear
And dance the
Night away

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

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.

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

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)