I am a warrior.
Strong than her demons.
Braver than the darkness.

And when I tell you I cheated on you,
I’ll say, it feels better than feeling nothing.

I let different boys touch me
Because I wanted to know
Even for a second
What it felt like to be loved
Even if that love was cheap
And it tasted like ***
Like the punchline to a joke
I never got because it was me

I let different boys have different parts of me
Parts that they didn't deserve
But I offered up willingly because I couldn't give anything else
Because you broke me
And I was looking for different fingers
To place different pieces and hoping
That the outcome would be a masterpiece
That maybe one of them would find a way
To cover up the handprints you left all over me

I let different boys touch me because I had to prove to myself that you wouldn't be the only one
That the scars that mark my body wouldn't define my worth to be loved
I am still not entirely sure that you aren't the only one
Who could ever touch me

I let different boys touch me because that is all I have been taught
To be a joke
To be silent
To be ready to give until you have nothing left
- I am hoping one of them will show me
- they keep leaving me and I am to scared to offer up anything more than my body to get them to stay

I write really bad poetry,
that is really good

this morning
i am stuck

i am stuck
between
Blue
and
Pink

every morning
i face the same decision
and ask the question
how do i feel today?

and every morning
i struggle
not because i cant find the answer
but because im scared of it

because i know
that i cant be Purple
thats too confusing

but i feel Purple

I found comfort in your storm

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

does everyone
know you
are a swine?
she sweetly asked.

no i oinked at her
keep my secret safe

my wings
confuse her
as
i flew
away
like a weightless
poem
with a simple ring
of humbleness
secured

on  the snout of my nose.

If sleep is a portal through time
Then I haven’t found that white rabbit to follow down the hole
To magical adventures
Instead I sit in heavy consciousness under this tree
Waiting for him to appear

He writes poetry
But no one knows

He writes poetry
He writes about love
And loss

He writes about smiles
And frowns

He writes about sorrow
And forgotten towns

He writes about how lost he gets
Caught up in his own mind

He writes poetry to
And about others

But no one knows

Know one knows the depth of his soul
Because they all choose to see the exterior
And that exterior screams

Preppy
And preppy
Don't have souls

Or so they thought
Until the day he was consumed
By his own poetry

Guilt is deep and
though sin is grievous
I lie in this bower of love
a flame caught in the wind
burning out of control.

    , , , So brief this time of sunlight,

hearts lost in breathless wonder
caught up in passion's grasp,
easing if only for a little while
this hollow yearning ache.  

Unsung, unheralded this stolen love;
magic notes played across skin erotically
sing whispers of dreamy desire.  

Will I always remember the sweetness of your kisses,
your body pressed against my own,
or will ravens sweep down
and rip us apart with swift condemnation?

Yet I swim against the current,
lost in this liquid dream, the
intricate tangle of limb on limb, wave upon wave
of licking flame.
I dare not shut my eyes but try to
take it all in.

Beyond this heaven on earth  
there is only the wind blowing
poppy scented dreams

I want to remember hearts beating out
of control, breathless gasps of rapture,
the sweet-salty taste of your skin,

should this be the last time,

should this be,


should

this

be?

I have story,
There were three friends,
two of them were lovers.

I love you,
and you also love me.
Our friend was happy for us
but things had changed.
You left me,
and you two started to begin your story.

How can emptiness be so heavy?

you said
you were afraid
to lose me
and then you
faced your fears
and left

I wonder what secret
The trees whisper to the breeze?
Do the birds hear that secret
And announce it in their song?

Does the wind hold it
And drop it in the seas?
Does the sea speak it out
And share it with the stars?

Do the heavens then resound
With the secret of the trees?

And the clouds,
Oh yes! Those clouds
Blue, black and grey
Is that why come rushing?

Across the seas to caress
With gentle rain the trees
And whisper,
"Heaven knows your heart,
There are no secrets from ***."

The trees smile and sway
Fulfilled and complete in love.

I dream
a lot
and I
remember
most of them—
streets
lights
names and faces
of strangers
even emotions
speeches
dance
they came
like
renditions
sometimes
it feels
like they’re
a prophesy

Take me away
Because
The walls are stained
With sin and pain
That will never fade

Today I've realized the weight of the word someday
It's empty
It has no hope
It's painful

It's the worse kind of torture
For an innocent soul.
It's not today
Tomorrow
Or the next day
It's someday

i have learned to without you
i have learned that there is more to life
than you
of course, it still hurts
but one day, this poem will no longer be about you
and i will be the one that got away

your loss, babe

Stop telling me
that love is beautiful
Just cause,
it was good to you

Let me disappoint you,
beautifully.

You are the reason

there are no fresh wounds up my arm,
there is food in my belly,
there is medicine in my system.

You are the reason
I am alive.

one of the mellower insults of the aging process
is that things that were cool in your prime are utterly forgotten
if they’re pulled out of the attic everyone chuckles
and giggles at you for thinking you were cool to like them
even if they WERE cool and you WERE cool to like them

he broke me in uneven halves
shelter seemed so sturdy until
i let him come through
my front door
and despite telling myself
being a victim is the excuse
weak people make
i became weaker

i took a picture of my face
bruised and swollen
hair and heart missing
from him dragging me
say to future me
you can't go back to this
and when you
feel like you miss him
just look at this picture of you

my words are tired
want to be loved
want to be held close as you fall asleep

my words want to have a home
want to be spoken freely
want to be met with open arms

my words want to live in the heart
be written in the teeth of a smile
be spun like wool from the tongue

my words wish to be heard
be embraced by open ears
be whispered in softness