My mind is a thousand rooms lit on fire,
a fuse crawled on every window,
pins and needles holding up posters of blank faces,
for the person that belonged in that body is not the same as the memory.
My mind is the intersection at dawn,
lazy cars drowning thoughts,
red lights on all four corners,
until the light turns into a green frenzy.
My mind wisps like tendrils of coffee,
sweet bitter dreams,
that never does quite come alive
when it only leaves a faint taste.
My mind cannot erase the doors you walked in,
or the smiles that blew my way,
and the air you scented in your perfume
of hay and horses from your Saturday hobby.
My mind likes to pretend that I hated you,
that I despised how we sat two desks away and we never said hello, even though it’s been three years since we’ve spoken a word.
I’m doing all that I can to not crumble when I see you have moved on.
My mind constantly replays that night at the football game,
and the conversation we had a week later that said
“I don’t want to say it. But we can’t be friends anymore.”
It broke me like a summer hurricane.
My mind doesn’t know how to let you go.
It, and I, are having a hard time
finding something to fill the space
you have left
in my mind.

"Everything has to mean something or else we'd all be nothing,"
She whispered to herself as she put the scissors down and dried her eyes.

is it selfish to hope that my son
turns out more like me
to hope he cares more about things
like the lunar eclipse or the lifetime of a tree over the next level on a video game?

to see the world through a wider set of eyes
and to know there is much more to life than the day to day routines
that nature matters
and so does recycling and knowledge of plants

reading should still be done out of books
and learning to write in cursive still matters
I hope he sees the beauty in the stars
and how small but important we are in the vast universe we get to be apart of
how what we do here on earth
effects our solar system

when he gets older I hope he realizes
other people's feelings around him
how the things he says and does truly effect someone else
I hope he cares about his health
that he dosent smoke and dosent drink too much
is conciencious of his eating choices
and goes for an apple over chips
I hope he sees he only has one life
and that he sets out to make the most of it

I hope he is never too ******* himself
because he realizes no one is perfect
and that he takes the time to
take care of himself
I hope he wants to live in this world over the makeshift realities brainwashing todays Youth through TV and games
I hope he questions who he is
and who he wants to be even in the good times not just the bad

I hope when the next lunar eclipse comes around
he will want to watch it with his Mom
because he knows how much she adores both the moon and her son

Mother always said that the beautiful ones were the most broken
But maybe the broken ones are the most beautiful..

You ask me what a true poet is
Do you know what I think?
There´s more to a poet
Than their tears and their ink

There is hope on that paper
With dreams in each word
You love then you hate her
Some letters are blurred

There is passion, there´s comfort
A moment preserved in time
Piece of a heart, piece of a soul
Between every line
All of the thoughts that can´t be defined

There is confusion and tension
Happy and fearful days
Not just paper and pencil
But a whole life on that page

There´s sadness, there´s strength
You live and you die
A poet feels content
But then the ink starts to dry