Not a single
demand,
expectation,
conjuncture,
influence
will keep me from living for me
and living out the hopes, dreams, and light
that I have suppressed for so long
at the request of others around me.

He studied law,
so I wish he’d had fought
a harder case for me.

She's crying in her car
For the tenth time this week
And she begs for her life to end
And her request goes unanswered
She is a hallow woman
So broken from this world
Breaking more from the brokeness
Because people tell her
it'll get better
you'll move on
you'll forget
you won't always feel this way
And she just screams
When?! When does it stop feeling like a dagger is in my chest? When do I get to smile again? When will it get better? When, because it sure as hell hasn't happened after all this time.

She sits in her car
And she cries
Tries to steady her breath
She hopes
One day she won't have to cry
One day it won't ache her to wake up
She hopes
With every tear
And somehow she thinks
Her time will never come.

I would be a naive white lie
when all you need is dreaming,

and the secret words you mean
to say with silence. 

I would be the kind of things
you've never done before

and all the things you
would never have enough of. 



I would be the crossroad where  
you’ll always have a choice,

and your better half coming along
on all your adventures. 

I would be love running through
if you feel like dying inside,

and the guiding light if you get lost
in the darkest time. 



I would be kissing your hands
if you have to clench your fists,
and a drum to play your most
true inner self beating,

I would be white sheets of paper
to collect your thoughts,

and a blank canvas ready  
to embody your impulse.



I would be there if you're numb
to take you dancing in the rain,

and the weird and magic energy  
before a summer storm.

I would be a mirror for the sunset
if it's behind your back,

and the hot dry wind of a sin
you won’t ever regret.



I would be a thrilling wave
you can’t wait to catch,

and the conquest of creative space
inside your noisy chaos. 

I would be the thirst for life
you suddenly instilled into me,

both challenge and careless fun
and all you’d care to believe in.


I would be possibly amazing
as your wistful colorful voice,
and 
the call of the ocean
with its most delightful breeze..


If just once I would be ever heard
would you care I give you u my all?

All is a nothing, thanks to you
happiness now I came to know.

I was once capable
Of talking without rhyme.
I could carry conversations,
And I did it all the time.
I could discuss the weather
And even a bit about sports.
I had anecdotes on things like
Political crooks and cohorts.

I could discuss the stars
And the people they dated.
I could reflect on the news
And my words never grated.
I talked about history, too
And how it might affect us.
I marched in protest parades
And didn’t let them deflect us.

But something powerful
In that which makes me
Urges the words I utter
To come out in poetry.
I used to question this
But I no longer chose to.
I don’t hide my poetry
From the world like I used to.

I hear common speech and
I hear cadences and rhyming
In step with what I am doing
And pace my walk to the timing
Of words I’ve heard and talk
That makes a marching beat
That is syncopated to my walk.

So, I no longer apologize
When I am rolling on a stanza.
I look upon it as gifts from the muse,
A positively literary bonanza.
I am my words; my words are me
And if you don’t care for poetry
Listen for a while and maybe see
What truths I write within my poesy.