"Life is about using the whole box of crayons."  

On Autumn day I reach deep within.
Reach for the box of crayons in my heart.
Some crayons are broken,
reminding me of past love,
but they still work as heart still beats.
Others like brown and green have great power
like Mother Earths textured ground that carries everyone.

All colors I use, mixing the dark with light for balance.
Black shows me where my shadows lie so I may shift them.
Yellow like sun gives me positive affirmations to move in day.

And best of all after the rains comes
like tears on my pillow
so to the rainbow shines.
It reminds me the importance of living in the heart.
The place where peace is generated and love begins.

Sometimes, the poems only resonate in the space between the sky and your eyes

Your words are tape, the only heart they will know is the shattered pieces of your own that you hold in the palms of your hands

Sometimes, the poems are only just enough to stop the blood from dripping through your fingers, not pretty, not inspiring

Your words are nothing that the world will ever clutch to its chest in its darkest hour, pointing to them as if to say
There is still poetry!

But they are yours.
Your poetry, your tape stretched across the fragments of your heart.
And in the space between the sky and your eyes,
Your words will always be a masterpiece.

Always make sure you say I love you,
Thank you,
To your mom as you leave the car in the morning.

You never know when is going to be the last time,
The final goodbye.

*All at once,
The stars behind your eyes flicker and burn out.

She stands as if she believes the floor could run away from her feet,
worrying the split-ends of her hair between her fingers.
Her hand brushes the white cords that dangle from her ears.

She sighs,
a blue glow lighting up the rings under her eyes.
Her eyes squeezed shut,
she mouths along to sounds no one else can hear.

She plays music,
all day, all the time.
Hoping that if the songs are loud enough,
she'll forget where she stands.

A girl and a phone,
eyes closed and all alone.
She rocks back and forth in the darkness,
pretending the music means there's something more than this.

All alone,
she lives and dies in the cold of the abyss.

I breathe entropy
  it scorches
my heart, my head, my
  lungs forget how to dance
paralyzed hands and
broken air

"But you are a performer"
Insistent
That lipstick can always paint a smile
And coverup can wash away tears

That even when
  entropy throws stars
at the backs of your
eyes become windows
your soul wants to jump out of

You will still pull your body from bed
And carry out one more day
One more encore
Dancing one day closer

Can't you smell the roses on your grave?