In the morning, the air is crisp
Life is hopeful
Within the colorful
Sunrise.

Come afternoon, the clouds have come
Hope is alive
Dwindling down to die
Betrayal.

Once evening falls the leaves kiss earth
No life, no death-
The moons light breath
(Is) stopped

Your cheeks melt from the lava erupting from your soul.
Your body shakes and trembles from the earthquake in your heart.
Your skin constricts from the ice within your flesh.
Time vanishes within the blink of an eye, stops and holds you in this devastation.
Your inner, earthly goddess
Spoke "tread straight through,
your world's depression-
it all shall pass."

I am fixated on the sun- slowly hiding behind the Sierras, mystifying all but you.
From the air escaping your lungs- vibrating your vocal folds-
The atmosphere of the serenity surrounding us is shattered.
Unconsciously analyzing your mind's expression, I register your truth.
To which I blush and giggle.
Because the sun setting tonight, is unlike all others.

And I am fixated on you, slowly becoming less mysterious

In two days my first book of poems will finally be published.
Although extremely happy, proud, and relieved; I'm also very sad.
Sad that my hearts' secrets are no longer secrets- sad that my book, my relationship and my love is finally resolved,ended, and in my past. It's also exhausting because it may be taken in the negative light and avoid all of the love. Or perhaps I will be judged harshly by my peers for being vulnerable and honest about my heart. I'm publishing it with positive energy and hope for well received thoughts.
However, no matter the reception, I will keep writing- it's in my veins and in my heart.
I can't keep apologizing for who I am- as I am no longer ashamed of being myself.

I am the water that trickles down your     throat
With each gulp you drink into me-I         satiate
I am the air your lungs breathe in and           out
Filling each breath only to be expelled consistently
I am the empty space between your blinks
The lacuna that widens your range of sight
I am the sun that beats down on your
coat
Nourishing your cold bones- becoming emaciate
I am the moon pulling the ocean in and out
Mystifying your unmitigated thought
persistently
I am the matter surrounding all you
think
Which must cause you quite the horrid fright

Love breathes into life;
Without life, love dies.

I have parted ways with my body
Because my mind isn't present
My heart, a charcoal gray: foggy
Has little passion since our dissent

I wrote dainty letters for you
Romantic, lengthy confessions.
Every empty word- away each flew
Whilst wading daily in depression.

Softly my soul fades with my love.
A hollow hole cut deep in your heart-
By unkind hope: an olive branching dove--
Is the coal that fuels this hatred art.

This suffering manifests my mind.
Winds blustering my common sense,
And life muttering "Are you blind?"
My body is combusting in defense .

Revenge begs me to set you ablaze-
Compassion  treads across this hell,
Speaks and heads into the insane,
Pulls me by the threads out of a spell.

I restrain from you- I am free -
I won't mention your infidelity.
Just make me feel not absentee.

I'm just done being unhappy.

It all started here;
Some thirty students-
Minds controlled by their puppeteer,
Walked in clueless

My mind came colorful, progressive-
Only my beliefs sprouted!
The seed had already been expressive
Just- the stem was clouded

The renaissance fertilized the soil
Dry, cracked, barren, deprived;
Destitute of the benevolent oil-
Used to awaken thoughts: revived

But what truly blossomed my bud-
Were the French philosophes,
Who's blue, liberal blood-
Solidified my leftist approach

I have always been the optimist;
Through many deaths and rebirths-
I knew it wasn't the apocalypse,
And instead kept the beauty of earth

Because I filled my life with fascination,
My opinions bloomed:bright and rich.
The rain could not cleanse my veneration,
Not to a diety, but to my democratic itch

My petals are strong to hold bees-
Who cannot fly or make honey
It's my civic duty to fight this disease
That in life- one is subject to money

However, I am not just one of Paine's flowers,
I am an independent with liberal powers.