When you need that special friend
one who cares deeply and is real
i think of elsa, a real true godsend
her heart is deep, and she has sense appeal

Everyone should have a ''Elsa'' in their life.
She makes me laugh louder,
smile brighter,
and live alittle bit better

Her love is contagious
her eyes are to die for
the warmth she exhibits
grown men have cried for

She gives the best advice &
she is always there for others.
Girls can survive without a boyfriend
but, they can't survive without a bestfriend.

She has been my rock
when my world began to roll
brought me back uphill
before things took their toll

She was the one who told me to
ask for a second a chance with ''him''
She was the one who realized
that he wasn't the one
She knew that I deserved better
than ''him'' before I did

Wise beyond her years
listens to your fears
loves unconditionally
darling elsa. true friend, always, to me

You're an angel,
it's in your last name for crying out loud. :D

Such a sweet angel
and being your friend makes me feel proud*

Thank you Elsa for everything you do.

Life goes on
My heart is torn
Lungs ripped apart
Where do I go with my broken heart?

Life goes on
I feel so small
My heart just wants more
Still, I have to stand tall

As the world comes crashing down on your face
I'll be here to give you a warm embrace
That's where you'll find me
You won't have to chase

You see things,
you keep quiet about them
and you understand.
Because life changes, friends leave
and life doesn't stop for anybody.

You feel more deeply, isolated
your true heart, so understated
but things you see
as they flicker by
keep that strong resolution within held high.

Pain & suffering are always
inevitable for a large
intelligence and a deep heart.

Time stands still
as life takes your photo
feeling outcasted like Quasimodo.
Life is but a tapestry
one part you and another, me.

You are confined by the
walls you build yourself.

*But never limited to your imagination and desire

Caught in a riptide
Lost between my head and my heart
Hair disheveled and a wounded pride
All these roads lead me back to the start

Holding my breath
And count to ten
My heart left me by a quiet death
Just to feel alive, once again.

Swift, the rain in colors grey
black the daylight whisked away
by steely skies, charcoal smudged
the ashen clouds amid blowing winds
surreal this field, this pelted land
the scream of hurried birds, that scatter

If only your mother would have loved you right,
maybe then you would know how to love a women.
If only your father would have stuck around,
maybe then you would know how to be a man.

Ifs and onlys all akimbo
leaves me confused, my heart in limbo
what is what and who is whoodoo
love is love, not gris gris voodoo

But I wouldn't expect
for you to know that when,
you don't even know your own worth
If only you knew that you aren't worthless

Can't make excuses for my mama
she carried on without a comma
but i never knew my dad
the best father I never had

Maybe if you knew your father then,
you would be more forgiving, more loving
If only you knew how much you meant
to your mother, your father, this world

If I truly meant something
perhaps it would mean less suffering
my momma loves me, that I know
but my dad got drunk..and just said no

If you only knew....
But I guess that you don't.

Maybe I never, ever will
but I let my heart, find love..still
if there's some way I can treat you better
teach me how....show me, to the letter

I wished that you loved yourself
then, maybe you would know how to love

I can only pray you'll show me,
take the time to get to know me

I can't show you.
You'll have to figure it out
I can't show you how to love yourself
Only you can

I am a work in progress
merely a work in progress

I can't help you if you
won't let me in or forgive me

Here is my invitation
my forgiveness
my welcome mat
please......enter this wounded heart

If only you knew...
that I was wounded too

I can heal your wounds
wipe away your tears
just let me inside,
your heart is where I long to live

If you look on the inside then, you might find
a scared, insecure and lifeless girl.
The girl I've spent most of my life trying to hide.

*Oh, but you are so full of life
the kind of girl who could be my world
no need to fear life any longer
grab onto my heart and we'll both grow stronger
no more hiding...who is beautiful
it's you, it's me...so beautiful
and as for insecurity
i'll believe in you & you believe in me

The terrible thing about poets is we're all sadistic masochists.
We all want to read about heartache, and we all want to write about the demons that haunt us in our worst hours.
We never talk about our happiness, our productive days and nights where we slept enough.
We drown in each other's depression so nicely, a swimming pool of lonely writers, ink pooling around us each because we always carry pens in our pockets.
No one wants to know how happy we are. How our boring mundane human life of doing dishes and vacuuming the carpet went.
We all want to stick the knives in a little deeper, to draw out a little more of each other's blood. Because honestly, our poetry has always been written in blood, sweat, and tears.
That's the thing about poets. We'd rather be miserable and have something to write about than be happy and have nothing to write about.

skipping stones across the water
walking beside the ocean's daughter
listening to nature as she sings
taking in the rapture that living brings
                  
Thoughts that she
cannot unthink;
a life that she
cannot unlive.
                
Dreams she has yet to live
and a soul full of fire
looking under every stone
seeking her heart's desire
                
Afraid to see whats underneath.
We stay to the surface
afraid of the ghostly deep,
for there are shipwrecks
              
What lurks beneath at fathoms deep
will not disturb a good nights sleep
for as long as we can stay afloat
courage shall be our own lifeboat
                      
But skipping stones eventually fall
To depths they haven't ventured yet
but, that's when life begins to be lived
when we reach deeper depth
                  
Skipping stones across my mind
like those lucid dreams we hope to find
but in the end we are not alone
having reached the shore with that lucky stone*
                          
Happiness is a skipping stone

The world is an unfair place
Much to my dismay
The humans lack grace
We didn't write the rules
It just happens that way