Examine your  mind
forsake the chemical imbalance
let the wild mind inspire
enjoy
the release from desire
accept all of who you are
and direct it
know and understand obsession
let imagination
take over
let the whole world come through
and chew
on it
feel really felt
live the present
focus on what
is really
real
give yourself vitality
and if grits are served for
breakfast
chew
chew
chew.

People often use the term "home is where the heart is" as reference that home is a literal place. That you can touch it, feel it, live in it and it's physically there. But I just can't seem to wrap my mind around that. Because my heart belongs to a home that isn't there in a physical sense. My home is the way you say my name and draw circles on my lower back. My home is built and structured in between your arms and in the crook of your neck. I've never felt more at home then when we are skin to skin and I want to pull you even closer. No my home is not a building, my home is you and that's where my heart will always be.

Don't ask me if you're beautiful
For I am a poet, my dear
If only a simple, but heartfelt "yes"
Is what you would like to hear

Don't ask me if you're beautiful
If your deep brown eyes are lovely
I'll say they're luminous stars,
During my nights, they shine impeccably

Don't ask me if you're beautiful
If your smiles are charming
I'll say they're arcs of polychromatic colors
Stretched across blue skies, breathtaking

Don't ask me if you're beautiful
If your hair is just fine,
I'll say they're thin tails of wandering comets
Fascinating, plainly divine

Don't ask me if you're beautiful
If your dress looks okay
I'll say you're a glass of ice cold water
And I've been thirsty for this entire summer day

Don't ask me if you're beautiful
If I'll still hold your rough hand
Darling, can an average human like me
Resist a touch so grand?

Don't ask me if you're beautiful
After one, five, ten, twenty-five years time
I'll say that whatever my eyes descry
Will be defining sublime

Don't ask me if you're beautiful
You're in love with a poet, my dear
Simple answers are not what I'd give
A mere "yes" is not just what you'd hear

You licked your lips
I lip synced to you
you licked your stamp
I felt I might be cornered
you stamped your gift
I'm stuck on you
we got stuck in
strokes
smoothing down
you stamped your mark on me
delivered
lips to lips
striking
we stuck to it
no
we aren't stuck with it
but on each other
tampering
peeling off
licking our lips

I would start with your hands.
Mine would dance with yours;
our fingers waltzing together.

Then they would become curious,
I know so.
My hands would glide up your arm
leaving a trail of goose bumps behind.

I don't know where your hands have gone,
but mine have reached the top of your shoulder.
My fingers can't resist
tracing your collar bone.

Your hands find mine.
I think they got lost
in the escalation of my own.
But they're together now.

Taking a hint from yours,
my hands reach to your chin --
only breaking contact
for a second.

My fingers have tilted your chin,
so our eyes can do a similar dance
to the one our hands have completed.

Hands are the utilitarian laborers
of the body,
but eyes guard the gates
to the soul.

My eyes search your own.
They are hesitant, but
my hands are always reliable.

They pull you into me
and at the last second
before our eyes close,
and our lips meet,
my eyes find what they knew was there.

I don't want to go out dancing
I don't want to "hang" with boys
I don't want to wear a push up bra
(Not that there's much to push)
nor make out in some grubby car.

I don't want to cake on make up
I don't want to weave my hair
I don't want to wear stilettos
Or a skirt cut up to where??

I just want to write my poems
play my games and read my books,
have some decent conversation
not based around a popstars looks
(Or the *** he's *******)

I know I'm odd but please don't judge me
I'm a girl, just not the same
call me names and laugh behind me
call me ******, call me lame.

Maybe someday you will see me,
well payed job and handsome man
and wonder how I got that lucky
just by being who I am.

Yet for now you only see me
as a nerd, a geek, a jest,
Take your hot pink lip gloss, sweetie
and push that pram like all the rest.

I think I could fill volumes upon volumes of books
filled with words and phrases and sentences
that you would never tell me.

I could write forever about the words you did say.
The ones that held no truth, only deception,
and blinded me for months.

I could spend a lifetime reciting the way your voice
would raise and come at me like a knife with no apology
and tear me down before your eyes.

But despite all that,
I could never in a million years
describe the way it felt when you said my name
for the very first time.

i want to feel you
in every breath i breathe
but when i'm around you
i often forget how to
and find myself
breathing you in
by the lungful

chosen child for nature's creativity
tangoing to the sway of twilight trees
such spiritually sensual sensibilities

hypersensitivity heightening passion
life intensified in intellectual interest
love embellished with emotional empathy

oh, to bottle her elusive essence
to drink in her wistful nights
to infuse my tea with her promise
to scent my pillow with her dreams

uncork the atmospheric aroma
of sepia tinged crescents
wafting in celestial patisseries

sweeten the clear blue skies
with mists of crystallized honey
perfuming the divine aether

oh, fill my breath with her ephemeral
synchronize my life's pulse to the
metronome ponytails of skipping girls
followed by the tails of wagging dogs