Sometimes all I can do
Is get up and breathe
And that's okay
Because it means I'm still alive

Daddy's little girl
is dancing in the yard.
Daddy, look at me.
Dad is long dead, now.
I am dancing, she says.
She spins, clamsy,
pirouettes,
bows,
pas de deux by a single.
Daddy, look.
Skies are wide blue
and the girl is spinning,
the globe under her feet
goes round and round,
faster and faster
and then
she jumps
to the other side of the moon,
unseen darkness in blue light.
Daddy, I am sorry,
I will dance no more.

darling,
you are the story
i will never tell
to my future kids

you are the words that
will bleed like rain on
diary pages

you are the empty
cups of coffee I’ll
fill my cluttered desk

you are the ashes
of yet another
wretched pack of menthols

you are forever
and will always be
my empty, painful
secret; love me, please?

the heart
wants it wants
there is nothing you can do
but give it what it wants
or make it suffer

the heart
is so fragile
handle it with care
don't give it away blindly

the heart
is a vessel filled with love
that love can soon turn into hate
if you let it

the heart
will forever be your best friend
or your worst enemy
but then again, it's all about perspective

its weird where i see poetry these days.  like…theres a better way to say it than that.  but im always shocked to see poetry in a bucket of bone colored paint or in a mess around a dumpster or in the dryer lint.  i see it in your avoidance and in the jokes i’ve learned to make. i see it in scuffed boots and missing keys on a keyboard.  i still see it in celestial beings.  i still see it in the face of everyone i talk to.  but now i see it everywhere and its almost overwhelming but at the same time i’m glad.  because even the ******* things can be okay if you look at them right.

you are miles away
we're separated by rivers, lakes, cities, mountains, highways
and breathing hasn't gotten easier
even when we're together, i know
i will have to leave again
and adjust to life without seeing you every day
which kills me
and takes hold of my lungs
and twists them
until i'm gasping for a breath
gasping for the feeling of your skin on mine
the feeling of your head on my chest
as you listen to my heart beat for you

sometimes I wish I was blind because then I could never see what other people thought of me and all I would hear is the lies they feed my through their mouths. I wish I was blind so that I wouldn’t have go see their hesitant faces show unspoken word about how they really feel. I wish I was bind because I would see the real beauty in people: the invisible kind. I wish I was blind so that I would take more time to listen. I wish I was blind so that I could feel rather and see if I look good. I wish I was blind so that I wouldn’t have to compare myself to everyone else. I wish I was blind because I could match the darkness inside my head with my sight.