This is for you:

-the girl who is so ashamed because of her acne,
-the girl who cries in front of her mirror because she doesn’t
look like Picasso’s muse,
-the girl who forgot how to smile because of her problems,
-the girl who cries her eyes out every night because of him,
-the girl who is so terrified to attach because of her past relationship,
-the girl who is different from the others,
-the girl who wants to save every soul she meets, except hers,
-the girl whose heart, blood and soul runs wild,

-you are so much more than the sprinkles from your skin.
-you're not Picasso’s muse, but you definitely are God’s muse.
-don’t waste your life being so stressed, just enjoy the journey.
-you need to be strong.Cry your heart out, but stop,your tears are too worthy , make them rare, for the real ones.
-try to love yourself first, then someone else.
-your future is not defined by your past.
-you need to save yourself first.
-run with them, darling, and never look back.

This is for you, girls.
You, no matter what, are good enough.
You are lovable.
You are strong.
You are independent.
You are different.
You are rare.
You are you, and that is your power, learn how to use it.

Heaven rained on me,
I breathed in the petrichor,
Bathed in the downpour.

the poem is ours.
ours to write.
it is mine to keep.
mine to treat.

the poem is like my child.
dont want to let them go.
i wright them and love them.
and i want them to grow.

when asked why i wrote them
im not always sure.
its made from emotion
from my ever turning soul.

but i love my poem
no mater my heart.
my pen is on paper.
geting ready to start.

Notes are finite
but music is infinite.

Away from the crowd,
A place I like to call mellow,
A place where the sun's always glowing bright yellow.
The meadow's pear green,
The flowers colourful,
A small opening lies hidden bringing you into a world so wonderful.

Away from the crowd,
Where commotion is no option,
A sweet red cherry is hanging so merry.

Away from the crowd,
Away from all,
A place so serene,
A place so peaceful.

-T

219

She sweeps with many-colored Brooms—
And leaves the Shreds behind—
Oh Housewife in the Evening West—
Come back, and dust the Pond!

You dropped a Purple Ravelling in—
You dropped an Amber thread—
And how you’ve littered all the East
With duds of Emerald!

And still, she plies her spotted Brooms,
And still the Aprons fly,
Till Brooms fade softly into stars—
And then I come away—

1654

Beauty crowds me till I die
Beauty mercy have on me
But if I expire today
Let it be in sight of thee—

have you seen the dark of night?
the shadows that lurk closer?
the eyes that follow your every move?
the cold dread in the air?

have you seen the flower bloom?
it withers until it is black as black.
it releases the spirit.
it haunts you forever and ever.

have you seen the glowing eyes?
they are in the dark.
they are in the shadows.
they are everywhere you look.
they make you afraid.

have you seen the shadow woman?
i lost her.