Can we rest on the clouds?
With the world at our feet,
Your presence is all that I need.

Can we talk for hours?
With open ears and hearts?
I don’t want to be judged for my damaged parts.

Can we make love?
With music taking lead?
I only wish to give you all of me.

Can we forget the past?
With our broken hearts and lost years?
I now know I want you...know that I care.

Can I plant my lips on yours?
With my eyes wide open?
I want to see you, feel you, with passion too potent.

I had to let you go,
So that I could find myself,
It could have been a shared journey,
But you never wanted to help...

You are the beat,
Strumming places within me,
I never thought could make music.

I linger on your every word,
A faithful prisoner to your imagination.
Sailing to the beat of your expressions,
I feel myself carried across a sea of melodies.

Awaiting the chance to enter your manifest of stowed away words,
To watch them drift across the tip of your tongue,
As I glide the highs and lows of your quivering voice,
And find myself captive to your thoughts.

To sway with your mannerisms,
To cringe and buckle at the swelling of a tear,
When secret lines of heartbreak and love,
Breathe their first breath of air.

To dream and feel what you’ve seen and heard,
To experience the virtue pouring from inside,
When expressions expressed,
Are more than playful rhymes...

To extend keen ears while stanzas overflow—my goose bumps arise.
Your verse fills a void,—caressing places I never thought could feel alive.
Many pray to heal, you chose to write,
I once was trapped—*your poetry gives me life.

If I bled words
What a beautiful tragedy my death would be.
The bloodiness of murderous verse
Slowly coursing from still veins,
Fascination ensued by the deep redness of my shade
Read me like the deadliest novella.
My corpse dispenses rhyme after rhyme
Slowly seeping into oblivion as time flows by
Smearing the floor with my everlasting essence
The sincerity of my words permanently staining the carpet
Frozen over gaze as you capture the look in my eyes
Holding on to seconds of life as time drifts by
Alone but leaving behind trails of divinity
A beautiful death as I lie, I die bleeding profound poetry.

If I run away from my fears,
Would I then be free?

Would I be chased by my demons?
—Refusing to release me.

Would they knock me down?
Would they make me fight back?

Or would I turn around on my own?
—And decide to conquer them?

Like the pages of a book,
I slipped through her fingers.
So intrigued by my sheets,
Each chapter leaves her breathless—wanting more.

A labyrinth of words,
Mere lines and curves—but full of meaning.
So absorbed reality has vanished,
She loses herself inside of me.

Like shadows cast from an open flame,
On her, my silhouette I leave.
Like sand to an incoming tide,
Be swept away in me.

My characters,
The excitement,
The new universe I bleed,
My Ink stained canvas—
Her escape to a new dimension is held within me.

We journey across worlds—in the same room,
I take her up mountains,
We swim across oceans,
Soar from country to country—
Her imagination free to run wild,
My hardcover constraints do little to confine me.

Spread me open,
Dive head first into my pages and reside there with me.
Lust for my contents—
Weep for the lives expired within me.

Become lost in the passion,
Written tears become real tears—emotions:
Memories,
Pain,
Anger,
Sadness,
Happiness,
With each new read she feels alive with me.

My plot— so sweet,
Once she tastes me— she realizes she was always starving.
The bookmark—her utensil,
She stops and goes as she pleases,
Feeding on the juices of a hunger that she can’t appease.

I am her favorite book.
Within me she tunes out everything,
I take her to new heights.
A free mind— captured by my mystery,
My pages are never-ending.

We will live,
We will age,
Only the smell and feel of me will change.
Yet she will always wonder what my next page holds.

I have left my mark.
Whether I lie on the side table,
Or rest upright on a shelf,
I, her favorite book— am always within reach.

I used to walk on stage seeking to please others with my verses,
As if my two-cents would somehow—
Seep into the audience and change ulterior motives.
As though poems of true love, respect,
And confidence would touch you like it touches me.

Then I learned this walk,
Is more than hurling metaphors into the atmosphere,
and seeking fulfilling reactions.

This walk is more than wordplay,
Puns of foreplay,
—And kissing the microphone with my rhymes.

This walk is MY Freedom,
See, I know this walk,
I strut with this walk,
I speak, I feel, I see with this walk,
And when my destination is reached,
I make this stage MY home.

No approval needed,
This is the journey of a poet,—
If you can feel it, you can speak it!

Time flew faster,
When we were together,
Sunsets were brighter,
Laughter was louder,
*** was mind blowing,
Conversations were endless.

Then the time came,
When those same conversations seemed stretched,
Laughter rare,
Sunsets were dim,
And the *** came to no longer exist.

Maybe, we were never meant to be together.

No more Good morning texts,
No more Good nights,
Surely no more kisses.

No more cuddling,
No more care,
No more apologies,
No more trust.

No more surprises,
No more gifts,
No more dinners,
No more ***.

No more love,
No more us,
No more giving,
No more regret.

Can we lie in the sand,
and watch the clouds go by?
While the sun sets,
and the tide waves edge higher?
Can we dip our feet in the water,
and play within the sand?
Until we're in each others arms,
silent and attentive,
All I want to have is you,
safe and in my presence.

Did you ever really love me?
Or was it all a lie?

I thought I’d write a poem for you,
But what would I say?
That you brighten my life,
And give me better days?
Or that my life is incomplete without you,
When in actuality I felt complete before you,
But now that I have you, I feel whole.
I could write line after line,
Pouring out my muse,
But wouldn't that mean
I’d be pouring out you?
When in thought does each reflection of you not surface?
Where the beauty in your passion,
The ferocity in your person,
The tenderness of your touch,
The scent of your love,
Is all I have ever wanted for us?
If I wrote a poem for you,
It would be everlasting,
Because you, my love, are my ending—
As well as my beginning.

If I were to walk away would you then ask me to stay?

He thought a kiss would fix it,
as if these wounds could be erased,
by a simple delicate gesture,
alongside mind blowing ***,
He thought I'd stay,
even as he pierced me with lies,
Hurt People, hurt people,
Until they feel hopeless and empty,
--he's begging me for another chance,
says he will do anything to be with me,
I asked what he is willing to do,
to become a better man.
I know I need to leave,
*but my heart is in his hands.

I feel myself...
taking steps towards love...
I no longer believed existed...

To look back at myself,
And see that I’m healing.
When I thought I’d be broken forever,
But you came into my life,
And provided what I’ve been missing.