Life is like a boat
and sure people may have yachts
while we're on our row boats
but we're all sailing the same ocean
fighting the same current
the same storms
we're all enduring the same desolate waters
So I vowed to be the boat
the one to lend a hand
when the troubles of life
feel as if they're drowning you
under the cold lonely waters.

And to those who already sunk
to those who feel as if there's no hope
because it's dark and cold
at the bottom of the unforgiving ocean
Well guess what
I'll be going scuba diving
to pick you right up
regardless of how deep you are
and you're going to carry all the treasures
you've found lying on the sands
Because baby the world is your oyster
so I want you to bring along all your ideas
all your emotions and all your pain
I want you to embrace it
because I'll be there offering my hand
since we're all surfing
                                   the
                                        same
                                                current.

Why is it, when I am in Rome,
I'd give an eye to be at home,
But when on native earth I be,
My soul is sick for Italy?

And why with you, my love, my lord,
Am I spectacularly bored,
Yet do you up and leave me--then
I scream to have you back again?

She draws black wings to her eyes
in a green-wash reflection, light
cascading through the shutters
of the ceiling fan, whilst red lips
rehearse a smile for her lover.

He will hold her like a wallet as
they pay their way through town.
It has been months since she felt
human touch, mammalian warmth,
or whispers exchanged across the pillow.

His eyes are on the screen as she
undresses and then falls beneath
his weight on the mattress. An empty
thud, a hollow sound, as his night is
given purpose, and then falls to sleep again.

She lies awake and wonders where
her night went. There was laughter
across the table, drinks stirred with straws,
and UFOs painting pictures in the sky.
The sea roared in the distance like

a passing train, and so there must be
an escape to a far-off land for her
to start again. Start again beyond
waistlines, over coastlines, and all ties
to employment. To start again

with a half-naked lover, who will
watch as the wind kicks up her hair;
as her skin freckles once more
in the sun.

how to write a poem:
1. think about something until it hurts
2. bury it in paper
I think that is what scares me…
That I will wake up one day,  happy that he has to leave
Or wishing that you would exit my mornings.
I am scared that the idea tempts me more than you ever will.
All I see when I look forward, is me waking to the sun
Nesting in my solitude.
I gravitate towards freedom
Something I am not sure love will allow of me.
And I’d like to not be selfish with your time
Which is why I keep you from me,
But some days temptation engages me in indulgence,
And I play around with the idea that, I could stay here
And stand in this
But, when the leaves settle and my heart stops trembling
I grow restless
I grow weak with leaving
…. And I think gold of you,
Which is why I keep me from you.
You asked why I can’t fall in this …with you,
And I’m warning you,
It’s because I’ll leave.
I have to.
And I always will.