I wish I could find
the first poem I wrote...

[was it on paper
or deeper, on my heart;
unblemished hope?]

Were my poems
ever melodies?
Or were they just
internal remedies
to the thick,
sick, and cut off
parts in me?

Did I write limericks,
raps, or pick-up tricks?
Were they from my inner voice
or head, just strong?

Did I ever give them air
to breathe,
like a love song?

Is this why
I am now so prolific;
I would prize that poem long,
put it in a vault to deny
constant criticism from the system...

but then let its spirit float free for all eternity.

The sky
Has finally
Let itself cry
Finally
Put itself first
And I'm not angry about it

I can be covered in rain
As long as I know
It's just the sky
Doing what everyone deserves to do

Everyone needs to cry sometimes
Doesn't matter
What gender
Or if you are up so very very high
You deserve to cry

Dear sky,
Thank you
For always being there for me
And everyone else
When they cry

Dear sky,
It's okay
Let it all out
I don't mind

After October
I'm so ready to start over.
I'm so glad we found each other
I'd be lying if I said
That our love was never true
I always knew
Every time I looked at you
I would need no proof
Cause' I saw the truth.