Maybe.
Mostly.

he is not cut out to live with all of this-
to live while bearing the scars
countless of spears in his chest
yet still breathing
blood all over the floor, returned defeated
every time he went on the war
with a hope that someday a savior will arrive
bearing a sign of peace and not bruises from a father

When morning light gently touches your face,
And evening hums the song our hearts both know,
You are the goddess time can’t ever replace—
Your warmth is what makes even cold nights glow.

Your eyes are deep, like stars could hide in there,
They pull me in, the way the moon moves tides.
And like the sun that dances through spring air,
Your beauty shines—so soft, it never hides.

I’m just a bee, enchanted by your scent,
Drawn to the sweetness in your gentle bloom.
And as the sun begins its slow descent,
It crowns your skin with gold, like soft perfume.

So fate declares you loveliest of all,
And I, your poet, rise to heed love’s call.

When the world shatters, piece by piece,
Each shard too lost—if found, too heavy to seize.
Life becomes a wasteland, where joy’s just a trace,
So numb… even sorrow wears a human face.

The suns first color is yellow.
Her favorite for sure.
She has others though.
A collection of more.
Oranges bleed to pinks,
Purples seep into red.

Dawn and dusk.
Her best times of day.
No matter the weather,
She always comes back,
She always try’s to stay.
When the sun comes out,
All worry’s wash away,
And brightness,
Fills,
The—once,
Cloudy day.

The sun bleeds through
The vein-filled leaves.
The wind picks up—
A soft-loving breeze.

The wind knows
And brushes my hair away,

So I can gaze
At the soft
Flowers in the deep,
Crevassed valley

On this bright summer day.

Oh, to breathe freely enough
to release the creatures that live in our heads.

To learn to accept the gift of the ocean
while something deep still longs for the mountain.

To dream away the blues in daylight,
till the sun falls and dreams turn into stars
we can pick with our hands,
rearrange and create our own constellations.

Oh, to remain childlike, with wondering eyes,
leaving no stone unturned.

To walk the path unfolding -
bare-footed, bare-hearted, bare-naked.