Her hair red like soil
And eyes green like springs clover
Skin sun-kissed and dotted like stars in the night sky
And man oh man
Her imagination was endless
And words constantly dripping from her tongue
Her smile never fading
She talked to the trees and the flowers
She was lonely and they were her company
I am in love with every last bit of her
The way she sniffed the air
To smell all the beautiful smells of the crisp cold breeze of fall
The way she nibbles at chocolate and sips tea
when she studies
She's clever and bright
Her mind is worth its weight in gold
And there aren't enough words to describe
The comfort I feel when she graces me with her presence

you haven't answered my calls in a few days
it shouldn't mean so much
but when the phone line lay empty,
i told the trees all about you through my tears
i left out the part where i said 'i love you' first
because i still pretend it was you

the moon listened when the trees went to sleep
and i asked her if she could keep a secret
she said she could, but i know she told the stars anyway
i whispered real quiet, so the wind couldn't carry it too far away

i'd love you, even if you broke me

Red were the roses, the ones I left on your casket,
Orange were the leaves, the ones in your tree,
Yellow were the bruises, the ones that covered you head-to-toe,
Green were the stains, the ones left on the hems of your jeans,
Blue were your lips, the day you were found in your noose,
Indigo was the night sky, that night that you died,
Violet was that bruise, the one you wore around your neck

Is a poet still a poet
If they do not write?

A journal gathering dust,
But a yearning to write.
Am I still a poet
Without my inner light?

It started with questions
answers poured out like waterfalls
crashing in tempo, truth flooded our ears

it was met with your gaze
a quiet stare that lit my soul
the fire grew, yearning for more

then, your touch
searching with tenderness
grazing me as if you were dove feathers

what answers were you searching for?

silent knocks on my door,

i don't see you,

what did i adore

cigarettes in front of my door.


its horrifying,

silently sliding through another night.

crying and trying, I'm dye

ing to change each night before it.