In the evening, We will march
We will feel anger for the times they told Us
We were not enough
and mournful for the times We believed them
In the evening, We will march
down the cobblestone streets-
dusk walking quietly but quickly next to Us
Our spirits will be high but Our voices even higher
In the evening, We will march
not just for Our daughters and Our mothers
but for Our sons and fathers too
who crave solidarity for peace
In the evening, We will march
holding hands and singing
together as one-
the bells will be ringing.
Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 8:09 PM UTC
Maybe
Just maybe you would've liked me
If you had spent less time liking yourself
Jul 12, 2017
Jul 12, 2017 at 6:47 PM UTC
You ask of others
what you are not willing to do
each time you ask another to love you
when you do not yet love yourself
(For if you did, you would not ask)
And yet each day I watch you wander,
walking the lines of someone else’s shores
searching for a foothold among rocks and sand
Though within you there are boundless oceans
with light and hues you’ve not even yet imagined
that remain completely unexplored
You’ve not begun to swim their depths
as you are too busy trolling the shallows
of someone else’s refracted image
of the self that they don’t know
Worry not about painting the sky
with someone else’s color
and find now your own palette -
the one that is yours uniquely
not yet discovered, for it will
only be found when you
find it within your self
Journey within and you will see that
the kingdoms that you are seeking are
also seeking you
You are the ultimate mystery of this lifetime
the grandest adventure of them all
the undiscovered continent hiding in plain sight
Love has not abandoned you
it is within you waiting to be discovered
please stop asking others why they won’t love you
And start asking that of yourself
I can't see you, but I see you
I don't know you but I know you
When you let me I will love you
just as deeply as you love yourself
and we will swim your oceans together
Love does not make you vulnerable,
it makes you invincible
Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 12:39 AM UTC
this infatuation follows me everywhere
—a ghost that does not realize it is dead.
it is still convinced it has some life left,
it is still convinced it is welcome in the home
you let it thrive in until there was nothing left to feed it.
it is still convinced you wanted it to live;
it is still convinced you cared enough to try.
the difference between our graveyards
is you never had anything to bury.
I still put flowers by our potential.
I still water a garden of wilting plants
that look like the first time you didn't say good morning,
that look like the waning smile on your lips,
that look like the hesitation when I asked
if you ever felt anything at all.
they keep withering
until the only remnant of our relationship
is a headstone that reads
here: lies.
Jul 8, 2017
Jul 8, 2017 at 12:33 AM UTC
I met a mysterious man
It was love at first sight
Thought he was charming
Things weren't quite right
He spoke to me romantic
Pure seduction in my eyes
I loved the way he kissed
It taste of such sweet lies
He gazed deep to my soul
He said I was perfection
Yet it was not me he spoke
But to his own reflection
He was a man so confident
Sure no one could disagree
So naive I was for thinking
That you could ever love me
Now I find myself silenced
A little lost book in a shelf
A Narcissist can not love
Except their beautiful self
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 9:26 PM UTC
I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.
I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.
Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.
In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 8:58 PM UTC
1680
Sometimes with the Heart
Seldom with the Soul
Scarcer once with the Might
Few—love at all.
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 8:52 PM UTC
It's never quite right, he said, the way people look,
the way the music sounds, the way the words are
written.
It's never quite right, he said, all the things we are
taught, all the loves we chase, all the deaths we
die, all the lives we live,
they are never quite right,
they are hardly close to right,
these lives we live
one after the other,
piled there as history,
the waste of the species,
the crushing of the light and the way,
it's not quite right,
it's hardly right at all
he said.
don't I know it? I
answered.
I walked away from the mirror.
it was morning, it was afternoon, it was
night
nothing changed
it was locked in place.
something flashed, something broke, something
remained.
I walked down the stairway and
into it.
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 8:38 PM UTC
the house next door makes me
sad.
both man and wife rise early and
go to work.
they arrive home in early evening.
they have a young boy and a girl.
by 9 p.m. all the lights in the house
are out.
the next morning both man and
wife rise early again and go to
work.
they return in early evening.
By 9 p.m. all the lights are
out.
the house next door makes me
sad.
the people are nice people, I
like them.
but I feel them drowning.
and I can't save them.
they are surviving.
they are not
homeless.
but the price is
terrible.
sometimes during the day
I will look at the house
and the house will look at
me
and the house will
weep, yes, it does, I
feel it.
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 8:32 PM UTC
O sweet love of mine, please do not fear
For I am always here
Do not fret or sigh when the end is nigh
Don't you know I'm always here?
Even when I am far, I am near
I promise you that I'm always here
I will never stray though others may
Love, I am always here
Even in times of dismay and disarray
I am always here
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 2:47 AM UTC