If you wish to grow these
sunflowers within my blue walls

Know that I am a house
the sun never visits, but I have:

Vacant rooms
with burning lovers

Floors
with footprints of dead florists

Albums
with nostalgic photographs of her

A single bed
on my scorching roof

Stairs
that creak to the rhythm of my growing pain

Doors
with engraved haikus

Mirrors
that reflect her image in front of my blue walls

i wanted to write about
how my fingernails take off my skin at night
or how i leave bruises in places i hate

i still want to scream about how i don't use knives, anymore
and tell you all the lies that let me get away with my own
self destruction

all these scars that have explanations
i'm nearly exploding
and the words will surely splatter on the wall



but i don't want you to mistake a poem
for an instruction manual

the hardest part is knowing
you can never go back
and that's what makes me
fall apart.

Filters litter the ground around me,
Slowly they fall to the abyss.
Waiting for time around me,
To go amiss.
We wait for the filters to fall,
so we may see reality once.
And all the while,
it leaves us behind

The cold greets me as I talk to the dawn
Autumn
No Winter
Summer is gone

I stop to greet the sky seldom seen
Fallen
Hiding
Shadows on the green

Cold Spring does not support or try to hide hope
Prayers
Or wishes
Cherish or cope

My year lies in shapes pleasure and art
Crying
Laughing
Seasons break my heart