A blink of words
That can't be said
Or even be written
She is poem of thousand words


She is fierce and gentle
All at once
She's a song
An unending song


She is a sparkle
She is a shine
She is the only thing
That i want to call mine

She is my everyday
And an everynight
She is every morning
And an every twilight


She is all i know
She is all i see
She is a sweet melody
She is an  unmatching rhythm

She asked if I
wanted to dance in the ocean
I said 'only if
you promise we won't drown'.

m a y b e
may be
may (i) be
i (may) be
may i (be) May
(May): spr(i)ng and flowers and bees
(be)es
be (sweet)
be (here)

may i just be
may there always be room for me
between may and be.

A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
I wanted to say,
lock yourself in a room,
scream until you have
a poem and no voice.
Open your veins and bleed
until you know that your bones
are pure words and sorrow.
Act as if you slit your own throat
and all you can bleed
are your own regrets
and all of the darkness
you boxed up for inspiration.
Write your mom a letter,
tell her you're leaving
and you won't be back for awhile
Because being a writer is traveling
through all seven layers of Hell
and denying anything is wrong.
Forget loving yourself
when all you have is a pen and paper
fused to your wrist
and Jesus is tapping at your skull
saying turn back now.
Warn the neighbors that if they smell burning
It's just your soul
clawing at the front door trying to get in.
Learn how to be alone.
Learn how to lose everything you have
in order to feel release,
learn how to only feel deceased
from now on.
A friend asked me
how to be a writer.
All I said was
don't

These words

Gone

Wisp of smoke