hide the knives,
put them away,
so I may live
another day.
Sep 15, 2019
Sep 15, 2019 at 4:32 PM UTC
and so you sweetly said to me upon the fireside,
"take care my dear, for souls like ours have withered up and died."
and even great romancers of the holy scriptures say,
"take care,
take care,
take care,
take care,
take care and live the day."
I never did believe that I'd retire in the sky
but live my next life in the air, a dainty butterfly
but just in case I pass away and turn back into dust
take care,
take care,
take care,
take care,
I know I really must
Sep 15, 2019
Sep 15, 2019 at 4:29 PM UTC
Flower on water
Please give me strength to cope
With things I have said
Aug 16, 2019
Aug 16, 2019 at 11:10 PM UTC
You held me in the darkness.
We talked away the pain.
I sang the tune without the words,
And filled the sky with rain.
We danced among our manic storm,
Connected at the soul.
Shaking our heads to static thought
From men with hearts of coal.
Even in the stillest days,
An earthquake rests inside.
A rumbling, crumbling, mumbling mess
I thought I'd never hide.
And now I know I never will;
You've shown me the light.
No beauty from the brightest day
Can compare to the dark of night.
Thank you for existing,
For choosing just to be.
Since I'll be infinitely listing:
Thanks for loving me.
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 7:44 PM UTC
She was a dreamer
Never a realist.
When she is falling,
She believed she is flying.
When she is beaten,
She believed love is deepen.
When she is breaking,
She believed Earth is shaking.
When she is broken,
She believed she is chosen.
When she is crying,
She believed it's purifying.
She was a dreamer,
Never a realist.
That is why,
When you are leaving,
She finally is breathing.
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 12:48 AM UTC
when people find out that I'm depressed
they say they never would have guessed
that one so lively and so sweet
would slice through her skin in hushed defeat
they ask me "how does one so great
decide there's no happiness in her fate?"
to which I say, "where flowers grow
are any plucked before the tortured rose?"
Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 12:45 AM UTC
hello there icy wind
who hasn't kissed me since April
& left completely by May
still you have the audacity
to blow
me
away
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 3:16 PM UTC
sometimes people
carry weight
& the ones who don't
pick up
the baggage
to ease the aching back
of the one they hold most dear
& that
is
love
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 3:15 PM UTC
I'm trying to remember
The words my father wrote.
He was a poet, in earlier days.
When he lived my lifetime once,
(Now he's lived it three-or-so times over.)
And I remember one day finding the words he wrote,
Photocopied onto bright white paper.
And it was then that I first realized how much I am like my father.
His words then held just as much as my words do now--
As much love,
As much anger,
As much confusion,
And, at times, as much hate.
And now that I feel lost and alone, I try to dig up the pages
That were haphazardly tucked in-between the leafs of a novel, I think
Or maybe an atlas,
Or maybe in a drawer,
Or maybe under the bed...
Behind the bookshelf?
In a photo album?
In a book
Any book
In the kitchen
Above the fridge
In a box
This box
Not this box
That box
Not that box
Any box,
Try any box,
Every box --
Which brings me to now.
Now I sit here, on the kitchen floor
Stirring my lukewarm chamomile,
Watching the air,
And the clock,
Breathing deeply through my mouth,
Holding back any sound
Searching through my head
To remember the words he wrote
Long ago
That somehow might make me feel my father's comforting smile
Now.
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 1:59 PM UTC
"Read more. Write more."
That's what Doctor said.
Doctor is my therapist.
He says, "You are not alone. Many have felt this way before, and many have also thought themselves mad. And that's why I'm here. You are not alone."
I think
It's ********
Doctor doesn't know what he's talking about.
Read more? Write more?
How can I read when my eyes touch a page and then fall to the ground?
How can I write when none of the words I think can make it past my mouth?
How can anything be normal, be fine?
Doctor says I'm not alone, but I find that hard to believe.
"Doctor," I say, rubbing my sore crown, "no matter how often you say that, I still feel alone."
He nods his head. "And what of your friends?"
I shake mine. "They don't like me."
"And what of your husband?"
"Doesn't love me."
"And what of your parents?"
"Don't need me -- they have my sister."
Doctor nods and glances at the clock. "Well, our time is almost up. Any last thoughts?"
I don't change my gaze, which rests on the cactus plant sitting above the fake fireplace.
"No."
May 29, 2015
May 29, 2015 at 12:30 PM UTC