apple lingers on my fingertips
autumn leaves and christmas gifts surround me
the echo of a song overlapping another
brings sleepiness' song to my voice,
the prison of rest onto my legs,
but a small hum of discontent is all i can say
and i say it excitedly

when i wake up i fall from my ceiling
my shower water falls into it, though
my clothes hang upside down in my closet
i set my car in reverse to go

when i walk i always look behind me
i try to open doors, but instead they close
i wave hello to the people i meet
but they wave goodbye; i suppose
that's what having a backwards life is about

when i cover myself in blankets to keep warm
no matter how heavy they are, i am cold
i can laugh the loudest in a crowd
but i feel alone in memory's hold

i am always wishing you were here
even at times i don't want to think of you
i wonder if you think of me sometimes
but maybe you don't want to think of me, too
that's what having a backwards life is about

through the naked trees
the winter wind blows into
the depths of my heart

what is it you think about that
makes you as special as the full moon,
and just as ethereal?
even after all this time,
i linger on the ends of words you wrote,
on stanzas you seamlessly weaved into poetry;
i remember the rich green ends of your hair
like chlorophyll saturating new leaves;
i see you in every shade of yellow
and in the soft soil of this Earth you love so much.
you said that i changed your life
but i cannot begin to explain how
your smile rivals the dazzling, celestial beauty of sunrise,
your laugh blooms as a sweet rose in spring,
and the thoughts you think are absolutely captivating.
you're somebody special

even after all this time...
we have graduated from who we were then
and stride in opposite directions.
perhaps i don't love you quite the same
as time is a funny phenomenon
but i am always wishing the best for you,
and that transcends time.
i wonder if sometimes,
you turn back and look for me in your memories?

i live slowly.
i chew slowly, letting sweets and spices melt on my tongue
i write slowly because the right words come to patient minds
i fall asleep slowly so i can reflect on the gift of yesterday
and i awaken slowly when i am ready for morning's light
i drive slowly when i can,
and i run slowly, for the beauty of the scenic route
i fall in love slowly, carefully, fully,
and i may fall out of it, but even slower

see just as a flower waits until the warmth of spring
before she blooms,
i, too, am always
looking for a spring to bloom for
and i often find it
in moments that people slip past too quickly

and when i bloom,
when i am immersed in the warmth of life,
i bloom beautifully

A shell on the beach
shines with brilliance against the sand
it holds all the colors of the world
in every beautiful band on its surface
and inside, it echoes the rolling ocean
whose song its always lived beside

But the rain batters the innocent coast
and cruel winds scramble its peace,
boasting its power over that
brilliant little shell

Its surface dulls in the storm
and its smooth colorful form becomes distorted with cracks
all its hues, it wishes were subdued
it wishes it could hide under the cold sand forever
and inside,
the ocean is still
frighteningly,
achingly,
despairingly,
deadly
still.

i am so tightly woven into
the sound of your voice,
i become hypnotized,
and i feel like i am just
an extension of your music.
what should i do with these feelings,
but allow them to overtake my arms and legs,
let my eyelids shut like a curtain on a stormy day,
and breathe like i will live forever...
you are my best friend;
though we will probably never meet,
i know you so well my heart
hums the same music from yours.
my only hope for myself is that
someday,
i could just imagine what
living a day in your colorful world is like.