These nightmares you have, you hold in your heart,
The times now long past,
Will tear you apart
When all that you hold, down deep in your soul,
Are feelings you have of things that you know

Scarlett laced liquid runs through each bone
To the twitch of the eyes that turn you to stone
With every breath exhaled
Your heart beats the eulogy
And the tempo is slowed

The creatures fear as you lay in your bed
Are the firstborn of fright you hold in your head
By manifest loathing in the things that you’ve seen
In things that are done and places you’ve been

The tears down your eyes are like chills down your spine
In the sadness that’s shown and fear in its kind

The look in your ocean-sprayed eye betrays your still hands
And relay the soft meaning your lips could demand

Precious star,

we will meet again,
we will, we will

the grass is growing on your bed
sunken earth, resting inside clenched fist

you are coming to me in shades of echos
lost inside years of
atomosphere
(we are skies away)

I've harbored your ****** skin underneath
this new stare you made me

warped light
sun rays in your collected chest
hold me, like I should have

console me while sitting in trees, im looking at just the bark
pressing palms to feel
you whisper
something only trees know

remind me to laugh when I can not sleep
worried worried awake about things that won't matter when we forget to breathe again

walk beside me and assuage me from the danger you didn't know about,
I will revel inside the lines

keep sparking like flames
tangled in my line of vision
knotted in air, woven suddenly
and then untie your self again

because I hope youre

waiting for me, I am waiting

to sink into you

to tell you,

I miss you.

I rember when we used to live
In a filthy little apartment
I had no money to my name
Just a box fan and a microwave
I was so poor back then... What else is new?
I lived from day to day
Worked my hands to the bone
Just for some food and water
I rember you said
As we sat on our bed
Looking at the color
Of peeling walls
"Kiss me til' I'm tired"
We were poor as could be you and me
Not a penny, nickel, quarter
But we had a piano and an old guiar sitting in the corner
We  played love songs late into night
Laughing at our lyrics

Our little bed
Was big enough
To sleep each night together
The neighbors would come knocking
YET
We loved
We loved
And swore and swore
We'd never love another
Those were the days
I must say
Although we slept some nights hungry
Dirt poor we were in others eyes
But rich in love
Together

I know there are days
Where this depression gets so strong
It feels like gravity is making up for
All the times it accidentally let you fly
And after pouring yourself a bowl of cold cereal
The weight of the spoon as it goes to your mouth
Stretches time infinite

So you don’t eat
Hoping gravity will let you go
You let yourself go
Let it all go

You and I are characterized by deep breaths
And bad timing
Sick jokes
And a mouth so *****
You have to bite your tongue at times
To keep the flies out

Perfect is unattainable
Just try to be good
Do it for me
No one ever hated a man
Who kept his heart in the right place
Out of his chest
And on a mantle
Away from dust
In between
Bibles and poetry
Coloring books
And old *******

You might not care to be good
But you can’t be complete until you are

I wouldn’t be telling you this
Unless I knew that
Unless I knew what you would become
After making some of the hardest decisions in life
Like making it a point to stay alive

Stay alive
Be good
I love you
And trust me
In the end
You will be so happy

Signed
An ******* from the future

When walking down the street
I have a tendency to get looks
an eye glance here and there
I don’t mind it to much
it means I’m special
it’s when the glances come with ignorance
my mind has a tendency to get flustered.
that’s when it hits.
and I’m the lost one
because I refuse to be seen as one thing
since my speech and race don’t seem to quite match
I apparently have an identity crisis
but that’s cool
I realize my worth is more then in my skin
I don’t mean to be indignant
but I refuse to not be heard
There is more to my identity
then the complexion that was placed on me
a wise guy once said
                                                                ­                                  “we are the people every one wants to be like,
                                                           ­                                                          but never the people you want to be”
while I understand that all colors don’t really make a rainbow,
I know they can still blend to make art
create beauty in whats become this ugly world
and instead of catching the falling hate
                                                                ­                                                             throw out love
                                                          ­                                                              p­assion
                                                        ­                                                        exciteme­nt
                                                                ­                                     Acceptance...
and understand what is
or change it to make what needs to be
                                                     I consider myself a Woman
                                                         ­                                I know that I'm a Friend
                                                      ­    I  try to be  a Learner
                                                                ­                        I will be a Lover
But I will not be considered to be anything other
THEN WHAT I AM!
**** that
just to clear up the confusion
                                                       ­                                             I
                                                                ­                                         am not
                                                             ­                                                          a *Color.

my type breathes ink
pressing said ink against sky
holds it, sticks it, stains it
each letter pushes
and stays

every mistake she makes is crinkled
and college-lined
freethrown in and around
an endless waste basket
later,
we'll call it her greatest work

because my type
type: writer
alphabet ingester
idea inventor
stainer of sky
believes in a world
where the world believes

she dots her eye-contact
and crosses her teachings

she sees old folks as encyclopedias
and children as ear to ear echoes
of all of this beautiful ****
that makes us shout
out loud

she sees fairytales
as tomorrow's scientific law
and travels this crazy world
via lopsided butterfly
whom by nature
always take the scenic route

because my type
type: writer
freelance flower grower
with watercolor wordplay
breathes, believes
and redrafts

breathes, believes