i wake up with dried tears on the side of my face

i went to sleep smiling,
i thought
i dreamt of you,
as i remember

but i woke up with dried tears on the side of my face

perhaps my eyes see something
that my brain has not yet processed

they see your eyes trail off
when I'm enthused about my day
they see the way your body
is always slightly turned away

my brain gushes about the
sweet text you sent last week
and the future that could lie ahead

but my eyes are the realists
and don't ignore what my brain blocks
they notice the other girls
listed in your inbox

and my eyes know that
they've seen this all before
and the visions in my head
don't align with what you have in store

so my brain might be behind
and take some time understand
that these tears i wake up with
are not a deformity of my lacrimal gland

instead they are trying to fill me in
on what i am trying to ignore
and all these poems i waste on you
i will soon learn to deplore

i don't want to wake up with
dried tears on my face anymore.

I want to be painted onto the canvas of your future
and carved into the floorboards of your past
my love for you is deeper than the Atlantic
and I am the tide
constantly returning to your shore line
no matter how many times I'm turned away.
I once asked my mother
what the most tragic love story was
and she said it was the story of the moon and the sun
Cursed to live apart for eternity
only meeting briefly
at dusk
but with that
comes the beauty of the sunset
and these bruises
they are proof that the color spectrum
Does not hold enough reds and blues
to paint my endless sea of love
On to the canvas of your future

Those veins in my hands,
they show that I work.
These scars on my face,
show I've endured hurt.

My rank remains low,
so  continue to fight.
I must work to achieve --
for the rest of my life.

My muscles protrude,
as they pass, they see.
My work isn't taken
seriously.

Men & women gather,
they stand behind me.
We call ourselves Feminists,
they label us "crazy".

We liberate ourselves,
our minds and bodies.
For like-minded people,
awaken from the faulty.

Our thirst for empowerment has never changed,
our roots are thorough -- where they remain.
I'm given the strength to survive every day,
I live guiltless & unashamed.

I don't think I ever loved my own voice
Until I learned to read poetry out loud.

Blue eyes and soft air bathed in the soft grasp of Sun rays, captured by the memory of yesterdays. You carry the word in your tiny palm. Your immense courage the substance sustaining my persistence. The irrevocable auroras centered around your little smile all of life glowing in your glancing eyes. You are moving even in your deepest slumber, just remember it's never over I am always falling more in love with you. When your older I hope you remember all the yesterdays and at your core my little darling that you are the summer.