I went for a walk today,
And when I went to rest against a tree,
I heard the wind breathe
And I heard myself breathe
And I knew that we were one
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 1:12 PM UTC
The beauty of nature is bittersweet
not because it may not last,
no,
Nature will endure.
It is bittersweet because we know
that while nature will endure
the same will not apply
to you and me
Feb 19, 2017
Feb 19, 2017 at 1:07 PM UTC
i saw your old converse sneakers-
laces mismatched-
dangling from the hightop stool.
you smiled at me from across the road.
i came in just to say
i love you too
Dec 24, 2015
Dec 24, 2015 at 10:16 AM UTC
It seems all great poems are about love.
For me, that's not the case.
It seems, as I read, we revolve around love,
Around this passion, fury, lifelong ache.
It seems that everyone knows what love is,
If they don't, they know what love should be.
It seems everyone desires to experience love,
They think that love will set them free.
That's not the case for me.
These words of longing, of beauty and desire,
Words that paint stars onto the sky,
Are words I cherish, admire and adore,
But not ones I try to exemplify.
I have never been in love.
Maybe one day, I will be.
Maybe one day, I will understand those words.
Perhaps, one day, I will read them and agree.
Today, I'll just try to be me.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 10:25 PM UTC
We are protected from so much pain. For example: graves.
The earth’s roots and brown-black blood are busy
covering the soft, violated bodies of our loves.
Death is a secret, and the rain with its many hands
washes off the streets to the gutters death’s thick surprise.
The automatic shutter of the eye never fails,
the courtesies of the tongue. What goes on in the rooms of houses
is guarded from us by the hardwood doors,
the carefully closed windows. Whatever was said or done,
night will come, eagerly, to clean up.
And death will shield us, in time,
from the sun’s megalithic promise:
Tomorrow, the same day.
Tomorrow, the same day.
For example: A flower
is the most beautiful lie.
May 3, 2015
May 3, 2015 at 10:17 PM UTC
Although I long to be held so tight
I see stars; and your arms at night
Could hold my pieces together
Could patch the cracks, keep me
Afloat and standing, shakily
I cannot ask you for forever.
Do not hold me like I want
You'll cut yourself on my hipbones
The razors; my chest would bruise
You as you try to fix me now
Do not love me; I'd pull you down
I could not ask you to lose.
I long for your arms, I miss
You giving me life with your kiss
Breathing fresh air into my lungs
Expelling the poison I hide within
I'll burn you, hurt you, if I begin
To steal your life just to be young.
Although you want to save my soul
And piece me into something whole
Do not caress me as I crave
I'll ruin you; my bones are sharp
There's a hole in my stuttering heart
Maybe we should go our separate ways.
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 6:22 PM UTC
I
h
a
v
e
f
e
e
l
i
n
g
s
that
form
thou
ghts,
that
form
words,
that form
sente nces,
that form
rope, which
ties itself
into a noose.
Your words
are also a rope,
that saves me from
drowning.
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 4:11 PM UTC
Dear Blank,
I left your name blank because I don't know who you are,
or where you are.
Are you near, or are you far?
Dear Blank,
Sometimes I wonder if I truly need you,
Or if I'm better off on my own.
But I am scared: will you lift me up or hold me down?
Dear Blank,
Will I ever find you? Are you really there?
Or are you just a memory, and idea, a question--
A question, with no answer, or confession.
Dear Blank,
If I search, will I find you?
I would call out for you, but I don't know your name,
And all I see surrounding me is more of the same.
Dear Blank,
Are you really there?
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 1:21 PM UTC
Dear Mariah,
Who are you? I don't know.
All I know are your words.
Your words with out capitals,
because they don't need to be constrained my things like grammar,
rules.
Your words without rhymes,
because they pain a picture on their own, just letters,
emotions.
Your words are just letters,
but together they are something more, something incredible-
consciousness.
Your words are something unique, something never before seen,
Your words are hope,
Pain,
Confusion,
Wonder.
Dear Mariah,
Treasure your words.
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 12:55 PM UTC