I recently have noticed
how sick I look on you
everytime you post a pic
or share a moment

I look sick following you
Everytime that you try
to make your life apart
I look sick when I follow you
not through dark alleys
but on twitter, facebook
or instagram

I am not used to write
odd modern poetry
but you deserve a reason
to why I started
unfollowing you

So, everytime you upload
a last-night-party pic
I want you to know I won't be there
looking for every guy you were
hanging around with

Because lately I've noticed
that I look sick not for following you
                                            exactly
but for being aware
of what you were doing

I'm sick of being a post
instead of being a memory
I'm sick of social media
and their way of twisting things

Making us more a number or dates
instead of making us "friends"
(who says that you can't be friend with your ex?
maybe ancient rules, maybe an idiot
with post-traumatic-relationship-stress)

I'm sick of "follows", "tweets", "likes"
ex-boyfriends and ex-girlfriends

I'm unfollowing you for my health
I'm unfollowing the entire world 'cause
constantly they remind me to you
with all their fake friends and ***** guys
and ***** girls; ******* attention that
maybe they don't truely deserve

Yeah, probably I should unfollow the world
                                                     for my health

If I could turn back time
I would hit Backspace all day,
Id put on Caps Lock
and SHOUT what I say.

I'd use the whole Alphabet
To tell you hello,
Press seven Numbers
Til you picked up the phone.

I'd Tab through the comments
I didn't want to hear,
And use the Arrow Keys
To drag your body near.

I would Delete the harsh words
I didn't mean to speak,
And Insert the "I love yous"
I before couldn't leak.

I would use Ctrl to
Keep reigns over my heart,
And I would Escape lies
That tore us apart.

I'd Print out your photo
And kiss it goodnight,
Use the Calculator
To check that we were right.

I'd Paint you a picture
of us, you and me,
Then I'd hit Enter
Just so you would see.

Those are the things
I would do in my strife,
If only Backspace
worked in real life.

"Your arms feel like home." I said.
"Yours are heaven." He replied.

100 days
Till the bright white sun
Shines down the earth
Warming me from head to toe
100 days
Till the water sparkles with joy
Happy to be seen after months
Hidden under the glaring ice
100 days
Till we sing around the campfire
Watching the night sky
Come alive with a billion stars
100 days
Till I laugh at the feeling
Of the warm wind
Tumbling through my hair
100 days
  Till
     Summer

Today I was told a story
Of a little child and her bird
And of how she had a string
That she tied to its leg
Every time she let the bird go
It would start to fly away, thinking it was free
But she would always pull the bird back,

And the bird never learned
So it kept trying to fly away
Hoping one day his wish would come true

I feel like the bird
Always trying to be free
But being pulled back by some force that I have yet to discover

Maybe the bird always knew
That he would die in the child's hands

Just like I know
That I will keep trying,
Trying to fly away
Even if my string is pulling me back

sacred silence hangs on angel wings
blessing, watching over wakened night
fluttering on the screen, drawn to the light of
consciousness, the truth of darkened mornings.
strong, alone, remotely flipping through the
channels of the restless bar-room soul
charles bukowski, angry, drunk and droll;
pavement wisdom yanked inside, renewed and
resurrected.  rolling stone lays open,
having sprung the latent-night messiahs
preaching to insomniacal choir.
cryptic muse's recipe for coping:
be consumed, entombed, re-wombed by
worshiping and feeding written fire.

Pain is only temporary,
It only lasts until you die.
But the greatest pain of all,
Is losing a heart a little too early
To a pain that doesn’t go,
To a heart that truly believes
Death is the only cure.
So don’t go before your time,
Be as strong as you are.
And go through the pain until it ends,
Cause at the end of every rainbow
Their is a little bit of gold.