If I could stoke every single flame in the
     fiery blaze that is your heart
          To ashes are the
               kindling that I so willingly volunteer

If I could be the strength
     round the girth of your trunk
          Formidable am I made to last
               year after year

If I could exist in the
     tales of your breaths
          Perpetual am I etched in the
               eternity of your forever

I want to tell him
that I’m scared,
that I’ve been here before.
And that the last time I felt potential like this it imploded;
I imploded.
But I don’t want to taint it,
You see I’m still hopeful
That maybe this time
Won’t end up laced with maybes,
Or what ifs,
Or open wounds pouring blood onto paper.
That maybe this time,
just won’t end.

I’ve not quite worked out whether I think it’s beautiful,
Or stupid -
The human capacity,
And pliancy,
And longing,
For love.

Advice is cheap
It comes out so smoothly
easier than compliments
which I could give more freely
Honestly I'd rather listen
and watch our faces tumble down together
as you speak of all the tender places
Life has found to pinch you
But there are no eyes to see upon this black and white screen
and supporting arms must be constructed
out of paper thin words
so flighty in their meaning
which fall apart like card pyramids
at one breath of misunderstanding
My profile is no weighty substitute for
the eternalness of audible sighs of a friend
But I want you to know that I heard you

The sea is much too large for me to see it all.
I need to remember that feelings are like the sea.
They run deep.
They crash and become violent as the shore approaches
I'm too young to think I've felt all there is to feel.

Hello.

Welcome to my poem.
I would like to introduce you to
a few words of mine.
Like a friend, they comfort me,
grow me, make sense of me.
The words come from my mind.
not always though, I can’t
remember where my mind found them.
Step on in now. My mind is open
Come, have a seat.
The words will be home shortly.
Be sure and take your shoes off
and close the door,
        we wouldn’t want to let any dirt in.

We talk for a while. Share a few
words of our own.
There is a quick knock at the door
the first words comes barging in.
Slightly rough, tired and stressed, comes up,
shakes the hand.
“Hello I am Fear”
So Fear comes in and sits.
We talk for a while. Share a few more
words of our own.
Then another knock at the door. hesitant tap, like
someone was left behind.
Fear says “oh thats my Of”
Fear yells at the door to “come in
and close the door and take your shoes off,
keep the dirt out.”

So we all sit and pass around
some words now.
It’s taking a while though.
It’s almost nightfall, and there
is one more word.

The sun is going down. Moon in the clouds.
Loud, Roaring closer and closer.
A growing light ending in my eyes.
Light entering through the windows in my mind. Come in Come in.
So glorious Light. My door is open.
The knock is loud. From every
direction.

Of is curled up in the couch.
Fear has ****** on the white carpet.
This knock will never end.

The door opens.

Of pulls it together, brings Fear to its feet.
Both Fear and Of stand and welcome this Word at the door, and together,
like a friend,
they comfort me,
they grow me,
make sense of me.
The last Word comes and sits.
All sharing words with the
Fear Of God.

Passing
people
by pleasing
persons
portraying
personality
pretaining
pain
plainly
pretending­
to
plant
plantations
of
pleasure
paint
spattered
pansies
blooming
pray people pray