bad poems
are like children:
abundant and
abundantly
annoying,
but unlike kids,
bad poems
never die.

In a

half breath

of this

moment

lying next

to you,

I have

felt more

than I

ever have

in my life.


the brushing

of my

hand through

the back

of your

angel hair,


the sleeping

of my dreams

while

lying next

to you,


then waking

up and seeing

them all

come true

in your

eyes.


and I kiss

you forever,

under broken

falling stars,


and give

you promises

to keep

deep inside

your heart.


to care

for us

and smiles

that only

we share

and laughter

that only we

hear early

under  pristine

light.


where angels

lay,

and where

after  the

still black

night I

always

reach

to make

love to

you...

I love you.

Made it out when I was in made it in when I had no chance to get out made it over when so tired I couldn't climb made believe when I couldn't face reality made up stories to hide my lying made for heaven god called him when she was dying made a pact with a demon once on a hunch just trying anything made a child made my ex-my child's mother stop loving me made her come back and made myself stop wanting her then made a roof for strays four two one legged whatever made food when hunger growled growled back at my stomach when cupboards bare made paintings I wished approached beauty the way the sky soared and forests stood mere characatures mocking nature made hymns songs love once made tears when she left me alone made this just to remember how I've made it this far
Made mad by the journey and glad I saw everything

It rolls over

heavy on

your mind

this new

person that

you have

become.


and like

an eraser

of the

tenderest kind

I kiss your

doubts

away and

smile.


I wrap my

arms around

you with

the deepest

intent

of never letting

go.


and then

you kiss

me again,

soft open

and you

are mine

for the

taking.


and our

nights

are long

without

sleep.


till morning

has broken,


and I turn

to kiss

you again.