A poet is no more than a person
A mother
A daughter
A lover  
Someone needing release
Or someone needing to recover


It’s the art they create when that ball of ink or stick of led dances on the canvas they so perfectly prepared.
And when the end result and their purpose become perfectly paired.

If the icebergs are melting away
How come my mother-in-law
Is still intact?

I'M stuck between "i really want to talk to you" vs "I really need to get over you."

every night i softly cry
eat an apple, hope to die
you've left me here, so red and flushed
im waiting for you, but i feel rushed
the bleeding heart slips from my grasp
i run to catch it in a dash
but only you can break its fall
and as it hits, I slowly crawl
to you.
adieu.
goodbye,
sweet lie.