It often seems to me that the night
remains
richer and more vibrant than the day
Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 12:54 PM UTC
If I could sleep with my words
I would
I'd cuddle them nice and good
Lay in a bed of words
The pillow the frame and all
Let them surround me whole
Four walls will make the room
Each side a different mood
One side of cheer and laughs
One side of pain and nags
One side of goals and wants
One side that hates and taunts
This room is where I'll lay
Whenever I'm astray
Heart ache any type of pain
This is where I'll go
To give rest to my soul
So even if I'm lost
One thing I've always known
I'm not alone
when I lay down with my poems
Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 2:50 AM UTC
Does a poem have to be thought out
does it take years to edit and perfect
Or can it be,
can it just remain,
a few simple, raw lines
Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 2:42 AM UTC
Is a poet still a poet
If they do not write?
A journal gathering dust,
But a yearning to write.
Am I still a poet
Without my inner light?
Aug 31, 2020
Aug 31, 2020 at 2:36 AM UTC
I bring you my heart as you would a flower. Take it, put it to your nose, press it to your lips, pin it to your breast.
There is no end
Nor can there ever be
For we are bound
Eternally.
Feb 25, 2020
Feb 25, 2020 at 6:38 PM UTC
If you were a book,
I'd read you again.
If you were a ride,
I'd wait in line.
If you were my dream,
I'd never awaken.
If you were a star,
I'd never look down.
If you were a flower,
I'd never look up.
If you were mine,
I don't know what I'd do;
But I'd do it.
Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 1:57 PM UTC
I feel foggy
With this self-medication,
my mind thickens still
An unasked yet unanswered query
What exactly is in this pill?
A means without end
An end far from near,
there's a pain in my heart
The saddened fate of system made,
too late to tear apart.
Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 1:05 PM UTC
Two separate pillars
full of love and hate
Making their way down the gradual slope
fast, but not fast enough
Falling silent as silhouettes
Each one dances to its own song,
a greater purpose with each to serve
An unspoken lullaby
These pillars of thought
streak down my face
A remedy of memory long forgotten
Painted, in new colors
A melody of its own
If only I held the power of composition,
if only that I had known
But if it's a story you're looking for,
Then I ask you not to inquire again.
Not again. Nevermore.
Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 11:29 AM UTC
On my 20th birthday
I checked myself out,
And into a hospital.
Little did I know
Nor could let show,
A girl so hidden and lonely.
Apr 10, 2019
Apr 10, 2019 at 10:52 AM UTC
#
Skies are beautiful
They have clouds
But they still cry
Why wouldn't you?
You are beautiful
You have poems
You can cry too
Jan 13, 2019
Jan 13, 2019 at 10:19 PM UTC