When I was little I would always
Draw my mother’s hair with a yellow crayon
And my father’s with an orange one.
I would use both to color in my own hair
And we looked like the most colorful family
In poorly scribbled blue pants and ugly brown shoes.

As I got older
My mother’s hair turned less yellow
She started drinking
My father’s hair grew redder with anger
I turned indigo
And I learned to draw us always
With pencil
Sloppily scrawled
And easily
Erasable

A poet's love is so divine
It is forever remembered in pretty lines
Each passionate kiss a letter in a sentence
That has become part of the masterpiece that we call life
We write about it all the time
The sun and the moon and the way stars collide
And shipwrecks that got swallowed up by the tide
And the imaginative way we turn relationships into raging storms
Every move we make is another poem born
From my loneliness and my love and my heart and my mind
You became ink and I wrote pretty lines.

I ball up my paper fists,
As I've thrown words away like skipping stones,
To be lost forever under waves of new thoughts,
Leaving nothing behind but a ripple,
That soon disappears.
I drank my tears,
Tasting only salt that’s left from the dried up sea.
I have no ink left in my fragile veins,
Only dull scissors,
Not even able to cut through my paper wrists,
In order to squeeze out drafts,
Of every shriveled word I have left,
To write,
Gasping for life,
From the recycle bin in the corner of my mind.
My brain is a tomb of lines,
An elephant graveyard of the bones of ideas,
A dumpster full of still born thoughts,
Stanzas aborted that were never brought,
To light,
But I leave them a rose,
And give them a stone engraved with my blood,
And hold it tight within my paper fists,
My nimble grip,
Getting ready to skip,
Across the tides of growing lakes.
I’m waiting for the damns to break,
And release the raging flood,
Held back with the weight of memories,
Of what I've lost,
And all the heaviness,
Of what I've loved,
And then,
I’ll write about it.

I remember my childhood in hues.

First it was green.

I discovered nature and it swallowed me whole.

I bit into a leaf once,
A bitter crunch I will never forget.

I imagine myself in the pines,
And I want to sleep there.

I want to be decorated in flowers and dirt.


Then it was orange.

I saw the sun as a beacon.

It raised high in the air like a balloon I set free once.

I loved it when it set,
And then it stole my eyes forever.


Then it was purple.

I lost myself to the rain.

I write poetry on the moon,
And live beneath the stars.

I am a lonely dreamer.

I wake up with bruises,
And my body is made of shadows and lines.

I trace them,
And enjoy the feeling of ink on my skin.

My thoughts defy gravity,
And levitate my mind.

I am an Indigo child.

I am made of hues.

Someday I want to float,
And I will wrap myself in white.

We can't control who we meet in life
Or who we fall in love with
And we certainly can't control the length of which we have it for because time rules all
But the memory is just as beautiful
As the moment in which it occurred
Just as a photograph can capture the light in someone's eyes when they gaze upon someone they admire.
The bigger picture can be cruel
As the world is vast
But it's the little things we come in focus with and can take solace in knowing is ours
Even if just for a little while.

I see the wood

Flaking.

I want to smooth it back down to hide

The rings.

There are cracks in the

Foundation.

I want to fill them in with putty

And smooth over

The lumps.

Knots are

Beauty marks.

These pretty lines are

Scars.

Stain creates waves of

Distinction.

Walls are stripped

Of color.

Emptiness leaves room for

Fullfillment.

My hearts been thumping again
I think it woke up to your voice and didn't want to miss a single sigh
I remember seeing you across the bar
and suddenly I found myself lost in your eyes
when we're together I'm seeing puzzle pieces collide
And stars align
Into a sublime unity that feels too good to be more than a dream
but I don't have good dreams
so it must be real.
Maybe now the nightmares will fade away into your arms
as I melt into the  threshold of your affection.
You're like an injection
of nicotine and romance
I think I'm addicted to what I just smoked
something laced with what I could be confusing for love.
Could this temporary buzz
become something as astronomical as
the universal language for love?
Hell if I know what the future holds
or if my obsure belief in fate will be worth the path I followed
but **** do I feel good right now
and I don't regret the road less traveled by
because you take me for a wild ride on a trip of our own
defying the laws of what I've known
teaching me it's ok to change
only because I'm no longer afraid
now that you've aligned your stars with mine
and maybe someday we'll glue the fractions of images together
to form the finished piece
and my masterpiece of a life
may finally be complete
thanks to you and your beautiful mind
I've never been more turned on
to the world
than when you tell me of your views
I feel our souls mixing like a blender thats in use
I'm making us a drink
and we'll cheers to me and you.