Tomorrow is my song.
Always tomorrow
with its chance of change.

On tomorrow
perhaps somewhere else
perhaps someone else
will step from falling leaves
or falling snow
or falling rain
and I will be there to meet her
and no longer need tomorrow.

But tomorrow is my song today.
Always tomorrow.
But I need.
Today.

I use to have a paper doll
once upon a time.
She had bubble gum matted hair
and veins filled with turpentine.

Her dress was made of Percocets
that went past her knees.
She spent her time smoking cigarettes
to medicate her anxiety.

My paper doll began to fade
as the hours drifted by.
Her rainbow became dull and gray
and I began to wonder why.

It could have been the cigarettes
or the Percocets she took.
It could have been the anxiety
from the harsh judgmental looks.

My paper doll is gone
and I miss her every day.
I wish she was still here with me
and she didn't fade away.

birds.

remember?,
drawing them
against white skies,
two lines
graffited,
an awe
to the kids we were...?

i really
love birds,
their chirping a
winged colourway.

early morning,
a robin,
dark orange chest,
dead,
laying there,
on the door step.

i never remember
that birds do die
and their flight.

i've always wanted to write more
but i am here
gasping for words
overwhelmed by poetries
drowned in my thoughts

Dear HP,

This is not a poem
But a question
The answer to which
I do hope you have

Why does my lover claim to love me
But still looks for every opportunity
To let me go?

Is it that she loves me so much
But doesn't think she's worthy of me

Or she doesn't love me enough
To think I'm worthy of her?

you look at me
the last sunset of
my hometown
sweet and sad
but
full of
remembrance

your hair - cinnamon and burnt coffee.
your eyes -  an autumn mourning, pale and foggy.
your hands grasp firmly, not tight nor too loose,
you taste of warm winter's apple juice.

Warmth flows from my lips
Air barely escapes
Pushing forward
never moving
Open, close
Open, close
Standing in an empty room
Filling space with nothing
and everything
Consuming in a vacuum
Giving nothing in return
Seeking purpose
Finding guilt
Depth is created
not given