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Nov 2019 · 63
I Believe
I believe that there is a veil
between life and death.
And I believe that veil thins
as you take your first and last breath.

As people lay dying,
some say they can see God’s face
just like some speak about reuniting with
loved ones already in that Heavenly place.

Just the same, I believe children
also see things from the other side.
I believe their purity and innocence
gently blurs that great divide.

But as that innocence fades, society grooms
us to believe that seeing things is wrong.
Feeling a presence around you means
you’re crazy or insane instead of gifted or strong.

But what if….Bear with me…
What if, for some people, the veil stays thin?
What if that childlike gift of sight
remains intact and even grows within?

Well, I believe that happens…

So when you see something you can’t explain
or feel an icy touch against your skin,
just know that you’re not at all alone
and I hope you embrace your “gift” with a grin.
Nov 2019 · 74
Home
Since I was fifteen,
I’ve searched for a home.
Somewhere my heart could
live instead of constantly roam.

I’ve craved a place or town
where I felt loved and accepted.
But every time I thought I got
close, fate simply intercepted.

Sometimes, I even found nostalgic
comfort in new and exciting places,
but I always ended up feeling
betrayed by the same familiar faces.

All along, while I’ve looked for
picket fences or a cul-de-sac street,
I never realized I’d find my home
inside two big brown eyes and a heartbeat.
Aug 2019 · 182
Passion
My breath sharpens
and my eyelids close
as your traveling hand
along my bare skin slows.

You grab my neck, pull me in,
and press your lips against mine
as your hand lovingly
massages between my thighs.

You climb on top of me
sliding your hands along my waist.
Our lips connect again.
Oh my, how good you taste.

My muscles tense
and a soft moan escapes my lungs
as we connect our hearts,
our bodies, and our tongues.
No Explanation Needed <3
Aug 2019 · 143
My Person
My love for you
grew quicker than a lie
and I fell for you effortlessly
without being able to pinpoint why.

But I know I feel calm around you
and completely safe in your arms.
You make me laugh constantly
and I fell victim to your flirtatious charms.

You’ve become my best friend
and without you, I don’t know what I’d do.
You’re my future, my person,
and I’m madly in love with you.
Aug 2019 · 194
Stay - ;
You’re not fully healed
but you’re not still broken.
With every passing sunrise,
your soul earns another token.

You choose to keep going
when all you wanted was to quit,
and look how far you’ve come
from when your heart was severely split.

The light at the end of
your tunnel gets brighter every day.
Thank you for putting down the pills,
the knife, or the gun and choosing to stay.
Shout out to everyone who chose to keep fighting those inner demons.
Aug 2019 · 377
Get Back Up
You were nothing more
than a temporary fix,
a rubber band wrapped
around a pair of broken sticks.

You meant absolutely
nothing to him or his friends,
and it’s time you stop
crying over the inevitable end.

Stop dreaming about
the drives, dances, and kisses.
Because, trust me,
you’re the last thing he misses.

You deserved better
than how things happened.
Next time you jump in the dating game,
just make sure your seatbelt is fastened.
All there's left to do is stand back up, wipe your face, raise that chin, and act like everything is okay.
Aug 2019 · 272
Made
Your eyes were made
to glisten in the pale moonlight
and to sparkle when you laugh,
not to shed tears because of him every night.

Your ears were made
so that you can jam out to your favorite songs
and to hear your family tell you they love you,
not to listen to him insult you for so long.

Your nose was made
to rock a little silver nose ring
which boosts the self-esteem that he shattered,
not to be covered in makeup trying to hide everything.

Your voice was made
to declare your own happiness and find peace
by standing up for yourself and finally leaving,
not to be silent…just letting the toxicity increase.

You were made
to be happy and to be loved in every way.
You deserve better than the cards you’ve been dealt,
and I truly hope you realize that one day.
I wrote this a year ago as a pep letter to myself before I chose to leave my husband. I stumbled upon it today, and it brings back all kinds of emotions. Maybe someone can relate.
Jul 2019 · 162
The Lighthouse
Once upon a time,
in a town by the eastern sea,
there stood an abandoned lighthouse
as big as an old oak tree.

Locals knew not to disturb
what haunted that crumbling tower
while frightened tourists shared new
stories of “accidents” almost every hour.
In this lighthouse lived the lonely spirit of
a child whose name resembled a flower.

Each sunrise, Rose played on the broken stairs
of that lighthouse humming her favorite tune.
She looked to the clouds and prayed
for friends each lonesome afternoon.
At night, she whispered lullabies to herself
as she counted centuries of passing moons.

Young Rose found the bittersweet answer
to her prayers early one summer morning
when a little blond boy raced up her broken steps
clutching his green balloon while exploring.
She pet his hair softly and devilishly grinned
before shoving the boy with no forewarning.

The locals heard a blood curdling scream
and tragedy fell upon the town by the eastern sea.
But as that green balloon ascended to the Heavens,
little Rose was, all of a sudden, a lot less lonely.
Jul 2019 · 95
Five Years From Now
Five years from now,
I often wonder where I’ll be.
I think of all the changes in my life
and how they’ll end up affecting me.

I could finally finish my novel
and become a legitimate writer
and maybe my stories might be able to
make someone’s day just a little brighter.

I could look in the mirror every day
and finally be proud of the woman I see.
I could pursue my happily ever after
and be the best possible version of me.

Five years from now,
I don’t know where I’ll be or what I’ll do.
I just hope that no matter what happens,
I end up standing beside you.
Writing down goals turned into a poem.
Jul 2019 · 151
Heaven
Cautiously walking up those famous steps
made of sparkling and shimmering stone,
he inhaled the mist from the tops of the clouds
when he suddenly realized that he wasn’t alone.

In front of the massive iron rods stood St. Peter,
so calm and collected, yet his smile seemed hollow.
The gatekeeper’s keys jingled and he said, “Welcome to Heaven”
as he opened the gates and motioned for him to follow.

Peter led him through a kaleidoscope of his memories:
playing fetch with his dog when he was ten,
smoking his first cigarette in the school locker room,
running through Vietnam with his Buddy, Ben,
kissing his redhead under the banner that read Bride and Groom,
the first time his daughter prayed and whispered “Amen.”,
seeing his first grandson on the monitor while in the womb,
and cursing at God for letting his cancer come back again.

His 82 years of life flashed before his eyes
as he walked alongside the keeper of the keys.
When they reached an oversized solid white door,
Peter turned towards him with such grace and ease.

"Beyond this door, is your own personal Heaven
and what lies ahead is what your heart craves most."
His blood began to pump faster and faster as Peter
pushed the door open to reveal a bright blue coast.

He nodded a thank you to the Saint as he stepped
through the doorway and his toes touched the sand.
He inhaled the crisp sea salt air before an angel whispered,
"I’ve missed you" as she gently grabbed his hand.

His redhead wore a smile brighter than stars
and she wrapped her arms around him in a loving embrace.
Just then, he noticed a man in white walking towards them.
She leaned in and whispered, "Are you ready to see God's face?"
Jul 2019 · 161
Wonder
Sometimes late at night,
I wish I could read your mind.
I wonder if your deepest thoughts
about me are either cruel or kind.

I wonder if you ever think of me
or how often I feel like you left me behind.
I wonder if we’ll ever be friends again,
but that just makes me wish time would rewind.

I’m sorry for how things ended with us,
but all I wanted was our relationship defined.
I still pray for you and I care about you deeply,
and more than anything, I just wish we could turn back time.
Jul 2019 · 120
The Unsent Letter
I thought maybe
I’d feel better
by pouring myself
into the ink of this letter.

I wrote paragraphs about how
much I loved you and hated you,
each word teeming with resentment
from everything you put me through.

I poured my heart into the pages
apologizing for the mistakes I made
and questioning whether or not
things would be different if I’d stayed.

After hours of writing and
staining each page with drops of tears,
I put the letter in a crowded drawer,
wiped my face, and whispered, “Cheers.”
Jul 2019 · 130
Fall in Love with a Poet
I hope you fall in love
with a writer or a poet
because you’ll be immortal
in their work before you know it.

I hope you find someone
as amazing as Dickinson or Poe
who’s able to describe the beautiful
things about you from your head to your toes,
someone willing to write paragraphs
about the first time you played in snow,
or entire thriller novels inspired by
your fascination with crime shows.

I hope you find someone who brainstorms
a million different possible ways
to tell you they love you just to comfort
you when you’re having a bad day.
I hope you find someone who will
use you as their muse for everything they say
and someone who thinks of you every
time they fold their hands to pray.

Fall in love with a writer or a poet
and whether you’ll agree or object,
you’ll learn that in that someone’s eyes,
you’re nothing less than perfect.
Written for my Muse. You know who you are <3
Jul 2019 · 442
Runner
Do you ever wish
that you could disappear?
Just grab your keys and
get the hell out of here?

I’m tired of this town
and I’m sick of this place
where on every single corner,
all I see is your face.

You’ve tattooed each
block, landmark, and street
with memories of us
and what we used to be.

It’s like walking through
an abandoned graveyard,
each store is a headstone
memorializing my heart’s scars.

My foot is heavy on the pedal
in search of somewhere new,
somewhere with a slate wiped
clean of any traces of you.
I actually wrote this after my first boyfriend and I split up when I was sixteen. Just now posting it. Hope someone can maybe relate.
Jul 2019 · 236
You
You
I love how you make me laugh until I cry
and that you constantly make me smile
because you rescued that sparkle in my eye
that had been missing for quite a while.

I love the way you stare at me
and how calm you make me feel.
Our energies flow so naturally
that sometimes it seems surreal.

I love the memory of our first date
especially when you hugged me at the end
and I love that you believe in soul mates
and how quickly you became my best friend.

I love it when you call me stunning
randomly and completely out of the blue
and when you kiss me, my heart starts running
because I’m hopelessly and madly in love with you.
Jul 2019 · 301
What if?
What if you could go back in time
to a certain moment in your past
hoping to alter your life’s grand design
and maybe change your future’s forecast?

Would you go back to the day your family fell apart,
or when your favorite childhood dog ran away,
or when your first love left and broke your heart,
or when you finally gave up and chose not to stay?

Ever wonder how different your life would be
if a few of those chapters could be rewritten?
Or if you accepted a few branches off the olive tree
instead of letting your *** of grudges thicken?

People say not to focus on what happened back then
or that the idea of “Everything happens for a reason” is true
but if I had the slightest chance to visit my past again,
I'd do everything in my power to erase you.
Jun 2019 · 253
Pinky Promise
Your pinky finger
looped with mine
as our smiles linger
and our bodies entwine.

You whisper in my ear,
“Promise you love me?”
Oh, I love you, my dear,
like the salt loves the sea.
Jun 2019 · 385
Wrecking Ball
I’m the queen of self-destruction
watching each bridge go up in flames.
A basket case of pure dysfunction
torturing others with my childish games.

I’m the perfect psychological warfare
collecting broken hearts along the way.
A gorgeously horrifying nightmare
waiting for my next vulnerable prey.

I'm the monster you lured into light
after you showed me how worthless I am.
A poisonous snake ready to bite
leaving ****** ring fingers in the sand.

I’m the swinging wrecking ball
destroying everything I can see.
A broken mess on a spiraling fall
after loving you nearly killed me.
I wrote this a while back when my divorce and separation was still fresh and I went through a phase of very self destructive behavior.
Jun 2019 · 314
One Nine Two One Eight
I sat down by the tree in the center of the cul de sac
and I stared straight ahead for what seemed like days.
There was a brand new mailbox and front door,
but my ten year old handprint is still on the driveway.

My favorite dog, Louie, used to lay on that windowsill
and patiently wait for me to come back from school,
and behind that front window was the formal dining
room where my dad first taught me how to play pool.

Just behind that was the kitchen where Momma used to
make meat patties and gravy, her hands covered in flour,
and the upstairs middle window was where my sisters
and I used to argue over who was first in line to shower.

The upstairs window on the far right was where my
neighbor used to throw small rocks to get my attention.
Eight years later, that friend is now in a cemetery and I think
about him and his family more than I can even mention.

The memories of my entire childhood are embedded
into each brick of this two story house in Candlelight Hills
and knowing that my white picket fence past is now
nothing but distant fond memories gives me the chills.

These walls in front of me shaped me into who I am today
and as I sit here on the curb reminiscing on my own,
I know in my heart that no matter where I live
or how many years pass, this will always be my home.
We’re the ones who laugh as often as we cry,
and we enjoy reading hopeless love stories
with our heads stuck in clouds up high,
but we’re also the ones that feel love stronger
than anyone, even after the hurtful goodbye.

We’re the ones that say "I love you" more
than you could ever say you love me.
We give the best of ourselves to those who
are undeserving and we forgive far too easily.
We tend to live life with a wide open heart
sometimes acting too spontaneous or carefree,
but we are good people with good intentions
and the people closest to us will agree.
We always try to show you kindness
and we wear our emotions on our sleeve,
but sometimes our love is taken for granted
and the efforts we put in, we don't receive.

We’re the ones who crumble and fall apart
because we’re much more fragile than we look,
and when we want to escape from our troubles,
you can generally find our noses buried in a book.
We can forgive those who hurt us even after
they destroyed the pieces of us that they took,
and we’re also the ones who can glue together
what was broken after the ground beneath us shook.

One day, someone will see your smile from across
the room and fall in love with the every part of you.
They will deserve the love you’re able to give
them and you’ll feel mutual passion returned too.
They won’t say you’re difficult to love, that you’re
too emotional, or that you’re feelings aren’t true.
Instead, they’ll cherish your precious heart and
do the opposite of the behavior you’ve grown used to.

To those who feel everything or feel too much,
be glad that instead of frozen ice, your heart is thawed.
You see the beauty in the little things and you're
able to love things that are broken and fatally flawed.
To those who feel everything or feel too much,
please remember it’s not at all a burden or a curse,
but an undeniable blessing and an amazing gift from God.
Jun 2019 · 45
I Forgive You and Me
I thought you were good for me.
But it turned out, I was wrong.
Privately, you acted like I was yours.
But in public, you played a different song.

I followed you like a lost puppy
desperate for love or kindness.
You made me look like an idiot,
and I’m disgusted by my blindness.

Now that you pushed me away,
my eyes have finally cleared up.
You chose everything else over me
and I was nothing but a runner-up.

I’m sorry that I couldn’t be a robot
and that I let my emotions grow.
I thought you’d always be there for me,
and for that, I’m sorrier than you know.  

The worst part is that a piece
of me will always love you.
Despite everything, I pray for you daily
that you may find peace and love that’s true.
Jun 2019 · 308
Fire
Have you ever stared at a flame
as she dances in a fireplace?
So chaotic, careless, and untame,
but her hips sway with pure grace?

Do you feel her raw powerful heat
filling the small room around you
as her rhythm syncs to your heartbeat
and your eyes glaze over from the view?

Watch her until she roars and grows
destroying what lay in her path
before she quietly dims and slows
leaving only ashes in the aftermath.

Each flicker and each spark
kiss inside the smoke filled brick.
She illuminates what hides in the dark
as she travels from stick to stick.

She can cauterize and sterilize
and she can even mend things.
Or she can light up your eyes
by burning palaces built for kings.
Jun 2019 · 552
Dear Me
Take care of yourself by choosing to heal
and stop desperately searching for missing links.
It’s okay to finally open the gates and let yourself feel
because loving yourself might be easier than you think.

Cook yourself your all-time favorite meal
or spend the extra twenty minutes soaking in the bathtub.
Paint your nails your favorite shade of teal
and start building your collection of movie ticket stubs.

Run in the neighborhood until your legs start shaking,
jam out to Brian May’s guitar and Freddie Mercury’s voice,
or dive into a Nicholas Sparks novel so heartbreaking
that it almost makes you wonder if you made the right choice.

Let people in without worrying about when they’ll leave
and laugh without hesitation and smile like never before.
Make an appointment for an addition to that tattoo sleeve
and plan a weekend getaway to the nearest sea shore.

Catch up on your favorite television shows
while holding a pint of Pecan Praline Ice Cream.
Dance with strangers until all of the bars close
with tequila pulsing through your bloodstream.

The beauty behind self-nurture and self-care
is that you end up pulling happiness from within.
At the end of the day, instead of seeking comfort elsewhere,
you’ll finally feel loved and be comfortable in your own skin.
Jun 2019 · 453
The Social Chameleon
She was a woman of many disguises
with social masks of all shapes and sizes.
Certain groups called for  a different her,
to a point where her true identity became a blur.

Around some, she’d be obnoxious and loud,
but with others, quiet with her head in the clouds.
Around specific friends, she was wild and care free.
Around others, she made choices a bit more cautiously.

She got used to pretending to be someone she’s not
and masks became more comfortable she thought.
But at the end of the day alone in the mirror,
the problem suddenly became a lot clearer.

She changed herself so much to match those around her
that the reflection staring back was a complete stranger.
She cared way too much about the opinion of others
and her people pleasing nature made her feel smothered.

She was scared to open up and let those walls down
in fear of rejection or them not sticking around.  
She was hurt badly by being so vulnerable once
so she closed up her heart and locked it for months.

But things changed in her when she met him
and for some reason, he made her world a little less dim.
He took the feelings of ugliness and unworthiness away
and even after some of her true colors shined, he stayed.

He learned things about her that no one else knew
and the walls crumbled down as he worked his way through.
Slowly, her shell reopened and her inner glow returned
after years of love leaving her feeling tired and burned.

The social chameleon in her is now dead, buried, and full of rot.
She loves herself now, inside and out, whether others do or not.
Jun 2019 · 205
My Happiness
Happiness is tears of laughter,
video games with your redheaded son,
rescuing a baby ferret to look after,
or telling a ridiculously cheesy pun.

Happiness is a home cooked meal,
your mom randomly giving you a hug,
a Harry Potter sticker on your driving wheel,
or seeing summer's first June bug.

Happiness is your dad being proud of you,
Momma's homemade queso in a crock ***,
an ocean wave so stunningly blue,
or learning how to dance in an empty parking lot,

Happiness is running two miles,
sitting in a pew singing "It is well",
watching the Netflix Ted Bundy trials,
or a collection of Galveston seashells.

Happiness is driving through Spring,
a spontaneous trip to the Houston Zoo,
or twenty percent off a James Avery ring.
But mostly... happiness is me when I'm with you.
Jun 2019 · 192
Collector
Archive that text message
and print out that photo.
Tomorrow isn’t promised
and the future is unknown.

So be a collector of moments
and always hoard the keepsakes.
They’re not just meaningless accessories,
but tangible smiles or heartbreaks.

Movie tickets and keychains,
birthday wishes, and card games.
Photo albums and Summer rain,
love notes and paper planes.

The people in those memories
will come and go over the years.
But they'll be remembered in the saved
tokens of the past or in your nostalgic tears.
Jun 2019 · 109
The Corridor of Choices
Endings lead to new beginnings.
One door closing makes several others open.
Ideally, before the new door **** is spinning,
the old door should be locked with all ties broken.

This corridor between the past and future
makes my cautious and indecisive mind spin.
Invitations from new doors feel like sutures
closing up the emotional wounds on my skin.

The corridor of choices feels like I’m in limbo
constantly being pulled in different directions
surrounded by doors when all I want is a window
which could answer my simple questions.

A window inside the doors allowing a sneak peak
of what life would look like and what may lie ahead.
Would I be happy with him and finally feel peace?
Or will coming home to him be something I dread?

But unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way
and you don’t get spoilers that help you make decisions.
You’re supposed to just breathe, turn that doorknob, and pray
that what stands behind it waiting for you fits your idyllic vision.
Jun 2019 · 161
Dear God
Whew. Here it goes… Dear God,
I seek to understand you
but the ideas seem so broad
and I fear of biting off more than I can chew.

Followers say you’re all about love
and to simply “just have faith,”
but I feel disappointment from Heaven above
and I feel for me, it’s just too late.

I’ve been through so much
And meanwhile, I felt all alone.
My unanswered prayers led to a grudge
And I chose to just keep myself afloat.

My questions hold me down
from believing without seeing.
How could you let an innocent child drown?
Why does it seem like you neglect certain human beings?

Why do horrible things happen to good people?
Do you really believe that all people deserve forgiveness?
Is Hell full of people that took pleasure from ink in a needle?
Why does the negative connotation exist for the word “religious?”

I’ve struggled with the idea of you
And I’ve given up numerous times.
But still, I patiently wait for my breakthrough.
And I still try to read between the lines.

Although I have doubts, I promise to never stop praying
and to keep trying my best to understand faith.
And If I ever get to see your face, I promise I’ll begin by saying,
thank you for my blessings and showing me a lifetime of grace.
Jun 2019 · 146
What's Yours?
Every being has a story.
A hopeful beginning, an adventurous middle, and a tragic ending.
Stories told via ballads, film reels, ink on parchment,
or parking lot narratives disguised as a friend venting.

She saw beauty in people being unpublished stories,
a behind the scenes director’s cut on the hidden scenes of life,
quarter notes on a staff translating memories into sound,
or a series of written chapters allowing the past to survive.

She could spend hours walking through cemeteries
knowing that every monument represents lifetimes of tales,
and that six feet below are the hands which fought for her freedom
and ocean eyes that sparkled in 1941 as he lifted his bride's veil.

She tears up as she stumbles through thrift stores
knowing that every picture frame or cracked vase holds meaning,
and that a stranger could glance at this hideous green center piece
and remember an unbroken family around a dinner table beaming.

Despite her idealistic fascination with the jigsaw pieces of others,
she often questioned the plot in the story of her own life.
Has she done anything worthy of being remembered? Or Will She?
In sixty years, will her grave visitors laugh, smile, or cry?
Will he think of her when he hears ocean waves or piano keys?

Either stunning or horrific, stories cannot be altered or forgotten.
One day, she hopes that her story is something to simply adore.
A hopeful beginning, an adventurous middle, and a tragic ending.
Every being has a story. What's yours?
Jun 2019 · 79
Best Friend
Your heart beat is as steady as a snare
And your tattoos act as trace lines for my fingertips.
The rhythm of our inhales and exhales harmonize
As our naked limbs twist and tangle to intermix.

You gently snore into my hair
And your muscly biceps securely embrace me.
The sweet aroma of your skin floods my lungs
As I hopelessly gaze at you ever so lovingly.

My eyes moisten for I wasn't supposed to get attached.
And these feelings shred the strings of my fragile heart.
You saved me when I needed a savior and you
Appeared with an absorbent shoulder for support.

Inevitably, I collapsed into the abyss of unreturned love
And I long for a day where our feelings synchronize.
But, I admit that I'm fervidly in love with my "best friend."
As I fight tears, silently break, and wait for sleep to arrive.
Jun 2019 · 143
Neon Lights
She was wild, free, but broken
With freshly shattered chains.
The neon lights called her name
And Tequila filled her veins.

Her ring finger tan line was fading
But the emotional damage remained.
She felt like she had wasted precious years
Of her youth and only herself was to blame.

The music blared and the lights lowered
As the couples filled the dance hall.
Her red curls cascaded and her lips curled into a smile
When he extended a hand and said, “You wanna waltz, doll?”

He twirled her around for what seemed like days,
As Chris Stapleton serenaded her heart.
She danced, she drank, and she laughed
And she tried relentlessly to keep from falling apart.

She was wild, free, but broken
With freshly shattered chains.
The neon lights called her name
And Tequila filled her veins.

— The End —