I work hard
every day
to make things
go my way
So much so
that in fact
I lose sight
of how to act
While at work
I'd rather not
get myself
tied in a knot
If truth be known
I'd rather play
but, then again
I like the pay

Cross my tears, lose my eyes—
these feelings fall as sadness starts to rise.
I lose my space to lose my mind; I cross
my hopes and pray they survive the night.
My joy feels too old;  these skins
want to die young—tired, stretched thin
from wearing sorrow too long. I feel like
a blade that’s forgotten how to shine.

Rust gathers under my lips;
I’ve spoken too much to the voices
in my head— and all of them,
all of them just want me dead.

Static feelings stuck in my sweater—
crying, even when it’s warm; cos I
don’t own a sweater, just a hoodie—
Something to cover my soul when I
feel like a ghost in daylight.
In my reflection, an invisible hand
gives me an invisible *******.
Even my mirror won’t look me in the eye.

These lips— they started off soft;
now they’re triggers, eager to flip
me off, shoot me down.

I am the despised poet— too hideous
even in my sweet dreams— this is
the  real version of me: unwritten,
unwanted, unmoved.
My soul’s literature is tired—
not of bleeding, but of no one
noticing it still bleeds.

And truth be told... I know the
purest colour of feeling blue.

half a day away  
until tomorrow
becomes today
like yesterday

lips have a taste for words
like ice cream licked by your tongue

I know not what you seek.
Don't understand the language
you speak.
All I know is,
you  possess a heart of gold–
a precious treasure
that cannot be sold.

Your kindness is like,
an unending river.
Wherever you go,
you spread love
and pleasure like a gentle breeze.

You are bound to no one,
yet you belong to everyone
whomever you touch.
Who are you,  
an enigma that I seek?

Lone tree in a field
Bends to the weight of the wind
Shelter from the storm