thank you forever
for leaving
for letting my soul out of the cage
Jun 27, 2019
Jun 27, 2019 at 5:38 PM UTC
an ocean away
distance disappears in love
a whisper closer
Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 10:11 AM UTC
let’s meet again
new
fresh
but still/always healing
I’d see you and smile
you’d walk over and bravely
ask my name
we’d start new
wiser
silently in tune
with each other
that never fading
connection
we’ve always shared
just new
fresh’
and full of potential
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 3:13 PM UTC
If I were to write a letter to love I’ll tell you what I’d say;
I’d first tell her to go to hell for making me feel this way.
For raising me upon her shoulders
just to let me fall.
For telling me what I’d dreamt of hearing
but not meaning it at all.
I’d tell her just to leave me be
don’t follow me around.
Don’t shine your glitter light my way
when I wish not to be found.
Don’t promise me you’ll hold my hand
or support my dreams.
When all the while we both know
that suddenly you’ll leave.
If I were to write a letter to love I’d have a lot of words to share.
Words of wisdom and advice
but i’m sure it wouldn’t care.
I’m sure she has her own grand plans;
a timeless tale for herself.
I just wish she wouldn’t be so secretive and shelfed.
Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 3:05 PM UTC
It’s an almost panic attack
in the hall of the plane.
Keep your eyes dry until the wine cart passes.
When the seatbelt sign turns off you can go into the bathroom and cry.
Every moment,
every time,
with tears in your eyes and Radiohead in your ears,
lips trembling, seizing with emotion.
You never cry
and now you can’t stop.
What is wrong with you?
I can’t help and I don’t want to
but what is wrong with you?
You tear the walls down only to build them up.
You fall down only to lay there and think about how cold the ground is.
You cry and whine and when someone looks at you
you’re always so ******* fine.
Help yourself help yourself.
Help yourself help yourself.
What is that saying
about you do it or you’ll die?
I feel I may be dying.
May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 8:28 AM UTC
Far and wide
is where we’ll hide
when things seem dark and scary.
But alas we’ll emerge
from the pond of the weary
to laugh and to cry while accepting the eerie.
May 17, 2018
May 17, 2018 at 8:16 AM UTC
We lay asleep between white sheets.
I can feel your words
through the softness of your kiss.
You’re scared.
I’m scared too.
We press our fear into the safety of one
another.
“Stay” he said.
“Always”.
For it’s the fear that connects us,
bonds our weaknesses,
braids the skin on our arms
and reincarnates love
again
and again.
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 5:18 AM UTC
I love you when I wake,
I love you when I sleep.
I love you when I know you’re busy,
I love you when I creep
inside your brain
around your heart
I let my feelers run free.
Because I know in time they’ll grow
and bring you straight to me.
Apr 19, 2018
Apr 19, 2018 at 12:12 PM UTC
It’s an internal feeling just like any other.
Both hard and soft at the same time
and always unforgiving.
You write like you mean something to someone.
Like someone is going to read your words and agree
or understand
or try to get it
but it slips past them every time.
You write like you have something to say.
Like someone cares and wants to hear.
To understand.
To agree.
To disagree.
To spill respect either way.
You write like he’ll read,
like he’ll care
and he’ll hear you once and for all.
He’ll really hear you
and won’t tell you you’re wrong
even though you’re always wrong.
You’ll write like he loves you.
Unconditionally.
Not conditionally.
Only when you’re perfect,
perfectly quiet
not writing at all.
You write like you’re right.
Like you know.
You know what’s best.
What’s best for you
and he can’t tell you what to do.
Though he can
and he will
You write like you’ve overcome it
once and for all.
Or just once.
One time would be enough.
For now.
To start.
You write like he’ll listen.
Listen to a word you’ll say.
Or write.
Or think.
Or try to spit out
even when your tongue is as tied as a shoelace
You’ll write anyway.
When he doesn’t read.
When he doesn’t care.
When he tells you you can’t write.
When he tells you you’re wrong.
You’ve misunderstood.
You’re too sensitive.
You’ll write
and breath
and cry
and speak.
And it’ll mean something,
to someone
somewhere.
Even if it means **** to him
Because he said it was wrong.
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 11:47 PM UTC
My heart, my soul
my love for the moon.
The sun stares
you stare
but I stare right back.
I can see the sun shining
through your chest.
You’re heart is on fire
so I rub my hands,
place them on your chest,
and melt.
Fire finds us and parts.
Ice hunts us and melts.
The wind dies down,
the rain picks up
and all the while the sun
waits, smiles, and watches.
Watches for the day when I land at your door.
For that day
the sun will shine brightest
and all of London will dance.
Apr 18, 2018
Apr 18, 2018 at 9:21 PM UTC