I once thought love was
a magical place, where everything
suddenly falls into place.

Sadly I have learned the truth,
love hurts worse than a rotting tooth.

It can be ugly too,
full of hurt and struggles.

I am left chocking on my tears
while my heart tore apart
bruised and fragile like porcelain,
it broke into a thousand words
bleeding from my wounds (poetry).

It flows so easily,
like hot wax melting over the
wick it hardened but without form
or structure. It falls apart
in your hands.

I burst into a puddle of tears,
for my visual can no longer
hold the pressure.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

Orange, yellow, and red stream through the dust as it settles down covering the ground and Autumn returns.

Leafs scatter in the wind
as cold chills push the trees.

The clouds become cotton *****
wrapped in there blue skies
and sunshine.

Heavy breath of snow blows
cold kisses upon your cheeks.

Autumn is never black,
its silhouette is orange,
yellow, and red.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

As the sunlight fades slowly
behind the cleavage of the world,
thine eyes close to say goodnight,
leaving a sliver of the moon hanging over your head and a sprinkle of stars cast their blazing trails crowning the sky King of the night.

The valley sighs before
sluggishly bowing to the night, the trees sleep like babies in their rooted beds.

As Autumn came
in the stillness of the night,
she laid her gown on top
the meadows turning the trees
red, yellow, and brown.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

Amongst the books I am
torn, tattered, and worn,
my pages are yelled,
my binding fragile and
frayed by age.

My story sat for awhile
before a friend found my
shelf, such poetry I wrought
in slow progress; it is dripping
from the pen I hold within
my poetic brain, and you became
the reader of my poetic tongue.

Like rats my thoughts gather
in a pack of many before
looking for attention and food
so here I am writing for you.

It’s a dilution of words
I spit out for you, like
a flaming candle blowing
smoke into your mind.
I linger on your thoughts
before you ***** my wick
releasing my last bit of
light before I become a memory.

These are the poetic bindings
that hold me tightly
to this world. I am like a
violin you strum my strings
and I will begin to sing.

My poetic bindings hold
me tightly allowing me
to write these lines
of wrought and desire.

This is my poetic binding.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

With a twitch in my step
and a stutter in my brain,
I am autistic but I am
also a person with feelings.

Give me order and I will be happy,
push me off the road and I will
struggle to get back to driving.

I have been fighting
but I also have been
living and enjoying
my life.

Being brave comes easy too me,
but being bold can be a task
like lifting weights, though
I am willing to try new things.

I am not a stranger to anyone,
I make friends like a pro
though I twitch and twist
I over communicate and
speak my thoughts without any
boundaries of my own.

At least you can trust me,
I don’t tell lies for I don’t
think about deceiving anyone.

I want honesty and straight
to the point, I would rather
stick to a line, move slowly
and carefully through this lifetime.

Patience is my gift,
kindness is part of my design,
both are woven into my life
like a tapestry that tells
a story.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

Be kind to a stranger and kindness will follow. You might inspire the stranger you helped to do the same for another. It’s karma Baby.  

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton