I have marks
that decorate my skin like war paint from a battle
I never could win.
May 18, 2021
May 18, 2021 at 9:29 AM UTC
Fearing our strength,
The Gods divided human into
"you"
&
"me".
Envious of our love,
You were stolen.
No longer
"We".
Roaming the world alone
Searching for your part,
Praying to find "us",
Craving "one" heart.
Jan 23, 2018
Jan 23, 2018 at 3:13 AM UTC
The law of nature
California poppy
You'll never be mine
Jan 22, 2018
Jan 22, 2018 at 11:02 PM UTC
His heart was always at sea.
Oh, how I wished I was his ocean.
Jan 22, 2018
Jan 22, 2018 at 2:16 PM UTC
When people ask me about my first love,
I remember the smell of melted crayons.
Not your smile, your golden skin, or the way your face would wrinkle in deep thought.
But about the carelessness of a child in your backseat,
And how with help from the sun,
your car was forever perfumed by a melted, purple Crayola.
I grew to love this scent.
It's an odd thing to even say aloud now.
However, it's permanently imprinted in my mind.
Over summers spent in your car and nights staring into your eyes,
I grew infatuated with this waxy, sweet aroma that filled the air between us.
It became your cologne that stayed with my clothes while you were away,
My comfort when you were near.
It was never sickening or invasive,
But desired and wanted.
So when people ask me about my first love,
I tell them about this boy who always smelled of crayons and how much I miss him.
Jan 22, 2018
Jan 22, 2018 at 6:36 AM UTC
I've been staring at a blank canvas..
Its cloth looking back at me,
With no sense of direction,
begging for inspiration.
A purpose maybe.
Something to guide it from its emptiness.
But I'm weak and my mind is tired.
Perhaps I have become too comfortable with the lifeless and colorlessness of this canvas that I have failed to realize..
I've been looking in a mirror all along.
Jan 22, 2018
Jan 22, 2018 at 4:40 AM UTC
The clock beats in rhythm
with my veins,
My heart trying to keep time...
I'm running out of tempo.
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 3:51 AM UTC
I often imagine darkness.
Dream of pulling the thick, heavy curtains over my eyes.
My final performance in this skin.
No encore.
No applause.
Just silence from the stage I once called myself.
My last bow to the audience of the world that left me broken.
A closing call to air that once filled my lungs.
Please…
Don’t throw me roses.
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 5:44 PM UTC
Threatening
new tears
at its seems,
my heart
is pulling
from my hold
of stitches..
All
because
of
you.
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 1:43 PM UTC