I am but a fleeting phrase, a sentence in your tome,
A whisper in your journey, where countless voices roam.
Yet, in my quiet brevity, a universe took flight,
Filling shelves of boundless thought in the corridors of night.

The libraries you have built within my fragile heart,
Each word, a gilded memory, a masterpiece of art.
I penned your name in starlight, on pages bound with dreams,
Ink flowing like a river through love's eternal streams.

Your smile, the prelude to a sonnet soft and true,
Your laughter, the refrain that the poets always knew.
I've scrawled you in the margins of the world I hold inside,
Where metaphors of longing in endless echoes bide.

Each fleeting glance, a chapter; each touch, a verse divine,
Your presence is the epilogue where I would rest my spine.
Though I am but a sentence, your spirit swells my page,
A symphony of essence no volumes could encage.

My quiet voice may falter as your story carries on,
Yet echoes of my cadence remain long after the dawn.
For though the ink may dwindle, and time may turn to dust,
The libraries I have crafted will never know distrust.

I am merely passing through, a footnote to your tale,
Yet your light ignites my parchment, a flame that will not pale.
So leave me in your chapter, or let my lines erase,
For still, you are the atlas of my soul's most sacred space.

We pray for rain
it's the only thing to do
it's dry upon the plain
and in the mountains too.
Spring is absent in these parts
the driest month is June
it's enough to break some hearts
or go crazy as a loon.
All we can do is pray
and hope He hears our call
to send the rain this way
end this prolonged stall.
The flowers wait and droop
the trees are shedding leaves
they're waiting to re-coup
we're asking pretty-please.
We have to pray for rain
it's all that we can do
to ease these arid plains
to help us see it through!

I feel like I’m a sun—
A glowing orb that brings life to others—
I’ll keep you warm,
I won’t let you freeze

But I’ll stay silent as the world begins to deteriorate—
I’ll watch the people I’ve worked so hard to keep warm— be left cold as the world freezes.

But I promise if you open your curtains I’ll be there—
I’ll make your room glow with my presence
I’ll stay till your finally warm—

Maybe then I finally will be able to set—
Descend into the horizon—
And finally burn off—
Be let free of the fires that burn in my core,
The fires that burn so hot, I can keep everyone warm—

The fires that have been burning
Oh so quietly—
Hidden from the world—
Hidden from the people I always warm.

who am i if not sad?
i’m scared to find out.

In the flow of my words, I found love.
Through these fogged eyes, I saw you.
Through this hated heart, I saw yours.
It was ever so radiant, so genuine, and so divine.
It lit up my world; from the darkness, I awoke.

I was butterflies when you saw flies.
I was lost when I saw you smile.
I ate up my words when they made you cry.
I was ready to eat myself whole
If it meant making you mine.

Then everything choked.
The world lost its color.
I lost the voice I never had.
Your silence made the dead of night recur.
I lost the only song that kept my heart astir.

In this flow of words, I found guilt.
I found heartbreak, and I found everything bleak—
Everything that I was never meant to build.
So I silenced the voice of my cries
That hummed when they saw the gold in your eyes.

In these days of melancholy,
My world feels dull, lifeless, and blue.
My mind races to the days when we talked,
So effortlessly, so full of vigor and hearts glued.
Now I see only the emptiness
And the coldness of a smoke-choked heart

But even in the quiet, you linger near,
A ghost of love I hold sincere.