Know when to hold on
and know when to let go.
Every moment
Has it's purpose.

I'll forever carry that sense of hope in any situation that everything will all work out.
But I'm always prepared for the fallout.
I just don't known which is more disappointing.

Life is so much easier when you're lost in the bliss of air.
But.
What happens when you're found?

Sleeping with the heater on
Because you're anywhere but here.
Covers keep slipping off.
 All these blankets disappear.

Poetry isn't about the words,
Or the emotions,
Or sounding beautiful,
Or looking smart,
Or knowing big words
Like ephemeral.
It isn't about alliteration
Or similes and metaphors.
Poetry is about what it doesn't say.
The silence between the words,
That's what matters.

Silence.
The darkness screams
as the moonlight trembles.
Unseen shadows hide the truth.
For what's lingering the night,
be all that unspoken.