Fear waits upon its prey
where the light is a shamefaced girl

wind is a fragmented guest
where silence fools the unwary

to chirp the birds forget
where the baiter might be the bait

the hush is not all white
as in that ever ruling night
blood is spilled without sound.

Forlorn as the lovers' lost track
meanders the creek
in moans for the lost
shedding its sighs to the tides.

Imaginings influenced
       by cords of a harmony
we hang our emotions over.

Symbolism of ever melody
           breaths on our reflections
of the days musing

To: You
From: Me

Open this letter when you feel like you have no more reason to stay alive~
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Hey! Cheer up! It's just a bad moment, a really bad one. I know you can pass through it and later on you'll see that it wasn't that bad. I do know because I also have those moments, when I just want to break down and let go everything. So I know that right now it is that bad, with all those negative thoughts inside your head, with all those voices screaming that you're in pain, that you're not needed, that you want to get away from all this. Don't do that, don't get away from it, don't let those voices get to you, it's not your time yet, you have a lot that you should fight for. You have a lot of reasons to keep going and I'm one of them as you're one for me. And remember, I'm here with you. You're not alone in this.
                                                 
       ­                                           Sara Leal
                                                           ­                                      24/01/18

Wouldn't it be crazy wonderful
To see in person some of
The most noted Wordsworth's
And personalities that
Hello Poetry has to offer?
August 15th would be good
Here in Clayhatchee Bamalama
In the south with nothing else to offer but the woods and cornstalks the peanut dust air.
It would be a festival. A face to face to finally meet the poets I admire and describe in my head by their words and their profile.
I'm about to start a gofundme page to make the wildest dreams come true. Imagine Eliot greeting you in person.
Its gonna be tie-dye only and sandals dress. (Weeds illegal here and the price high as hell, so bring your own)
Load up the vw van with all your poet friends.
Entrance fees waved to those
Bringing their own soap and toiletries. Oh, and beer....or ***....whisky....tequila.... Etc.

All I can say now is sorry my dear
For I've known in my heart and in my head
I can not stay, even if you are here
For I'll be mad from my dawn 'till I'm dead
And who knows, for I will never tell you
Of that secret familial held curse
Or if I tell you that this blood runs true
You must know you can not **** this dark verse
For with generations of maniacs
All love from madness can not take me back