Salinity is the oar of my lungs,
as I crawl with busted knees and
drag my legs across the bottom of the sea
onto an island of your heart of night.
My pale feet embalmed in your grainy shore
colouring it  maroon.
Your violet light shining through my darkness.

You are my rebirth even after I've died a million times.

Life is like a piece of gum
You unwrap a new piece,
Like a fresh start
You start chewing that piece,
Learning how to live

You can blow it,
Let it expand and expand
Until sometimes
It explodes in your face

It might be hard
To clean it off
Sticking everywhere
Making problems
It might take a while
But as you learn
You’ll get better
Through trials
Until the whole piece
Is back in your mouth

Sometimes the gum will get bland
You’ll get bored and sick
You’ll want something new
Something exciting
Something different

So you’ll spit out your gum
Wrap it in a wrapper
And toss it in the garbage
Where it will stay
So you don’t have to remember
Unless you want to

Then you’ll buy a new
And exciting pack of gum
An exciting flavor!
Maybe cinnamon, maybe fruit
Maybe even a mystery pack

Then you’ll start over
A new chapter
Filled with new tastes
And experiences
Like a fresh piece of gum

Good Witches do not

wear dresses of peonies

they do not say

“I am a Good Witch”

they are not

caricatures of happiness


Good Witches wear

sunsets like cloaks

they run with

bare feet

exposed limbs

and snake hair

through forests and foggy minds


They jump over stone walls

laughing as the

sticks crack

beneath them

they drum their midnight black claws

against tables

as if they were raised by wolves

and divine your future

in sidewalk cracks

modern-day Cassandras,

better listen

listen


they do not say

“I am a Good Witch”

they smirk, bear fangs

forked tongues spilling magik like moonlight

and make you figure it out yourself

"He could not dance",
That was what he was told,
And given a chance,
He might have nothing to behold.

It didn't stop him from trying,
Because upon the dance floor,
He felt as though he was flying,
A bird without wings yet could soar.

To afraid to look a fool, he took classes,
Where he was sat between other dancers,
Attention aroused by female asse....glasses,
He found his one true calling, the answer.

He went upon the floor in stride,
Holding every piece of him up high,
And with every inch of pride,
He let out an ensemble of moves without try.

So if they ever said he could never dance,
Best believe that if he was given a chance,
He could make tears roll down faces,
By the way his body move and paces.

So don't let people define what you can,
Or can't do.