Words float in the air
They rearrange themselves into a sentence
form a picture of a train and roll away

Words shaped like balloons
They float away but will be back soon

Words hiding in a tree
Leaves fall to the ground and form sentences for me

Musical notes rearrange themselves on a scale
Fingers jumping from fret to fret
or dancing on the piano keys
These are some of the things I see

Ocean waves roll in and write on the sand
Once it just wrote, "I AM"
Seashells with words lie on the beach
In a sentence they realign
Thank you Lord for this beautiful mind

Poetry has become my self harm,
I only write at my lows...
Instead of blood I see words,
Instead of a blade I have a keyboard...

I want to write about...
The wind dancing with the sea...
Or...
The way you smile and it lights up your innocent face...

I don't want poetry to be my self harm,
Because poetry is beautiful...
An art...
Not.
Just.
Blood.
And.
Scars.

She is summer,
Full of laughter and joy
Radiating love and light
Among everyone she sees,
Without a care in the world
She runs free
Adventuring recklessly
Leaving bruises and scraped knees
And losing pieces of herself
As the summer rain begins,
Like the tears she cries
Late at night.
The leaves start to fall
Along with her spirit
And her friends tell her
That her pain is beautiful
Capturing the changes
In pretty photographs,
She feels the air cooling
Sending chills down her spine
And drying up her heart
Like the barren ground
Beneath her feet.
As winter rolls around
She hides away
Fearing the slippery snow
The coats the driveway
And the ice
That has grown in her heart,
She stops talking
And they stop calling
Because her pain
Is no longer beautiful.
As her heart hardens
Into a lifeless seed
That will not sprout,
Spring slowly approaches
The returning warmth
Melting the snow
And revealing fresh soil,
A blank canvas
To paint with life
Turning the seed  
Into a beautiful flower.
And once again
She is summer.