I think of you
when I'm tossing
and turning
in the middle
of the night.
I can't get you
out of my head.
I keep going
over and over
all of the things
you said.
I think about
when you said
you loved me.
I remember
how you held me
so tightly to you,
I could have died
that night
at the mercy of you.
I remember
you were so warm,
and I was colder
than a winter storm.
I pushed my body
so close to you,
drifting away delicately
to dreams of our
blossoming new love.
I thought
it would last
forever.
I should have realized
that night,
there was
a blood red moon
hanging low
in the sky.

There is
blood on the moon,
a message written
in deep red blues,
warning me,
beware
of you.

There are times
talking to you
feels like
throwing paper kites
underwater.
We are always
pulling
each other under,
instead of
building paper boats
to save
one another.

I had the oddest dream last night. I was watching myself grow up as a child. I felt as though I was seeing through another’s eyes. I think maybe it was my great grandmother showing me the light I have inside. I’m not sure exactly why, but it was truly a gift from the other side. I felt such a sense of pride that I awoke with tears in my eyes.

When it comes
to loving you,
my heart wades,
and fills,
like the phases of the moon.

When the walls
of your world
come crashing down,
there are,
but two options;
cave,
crumple,
and crash,
beneath the weight
of wasted time,
and long lost passions.
Or,
rise,
like the Phoenix,
from the ashes
of your tattered past.
The choice is yours.

That's the thing
about girls.
We love
with hearts wide open,
and eyes half closed.

Tonight,
I am more lonely
than the moon
in a starless sky.
Why,
is it so easy
for me to pour
my heart
into a little poem,
than it is for
me to tell you
how I really feel.
Maybe,
like the moon,
I go through phases,
and you,
like the sun,
are constant,
bright,
and always
burning.

There must be more than this.
More than what lies
beyond the deep,
blue sky.
Where stars condense,
and collide.
Where glalaxies spin,
and multiply.
Where life blooms,
but never dies.
There must be more
than what lies
at the end
of an ordinary life.

On rainy days,
I feel lost when
you are not here.
I gaze out the window,
watching the rain
soak the world outside.
The trees sway in
the cool breeze,
and all I can
think about is you.
Yes,
on rainy days,
I feel like I'm 17 again.  
Starving my bones,
and staring at my phone.
Waiting for your message,
"Come over, I'm waiting".
I'd pull on my jacket,
and walk a few blocks
down the street.
Butterflies in my belly
the whole way there.
Yes,
on rainy days,
I think of you.
I think of the first time
you held me in your arms
while the rain washed
my sorrows away.
You held me so close,
I knew you loved me,
before your lips spoke
a single word.
I was yours.
You were mine.
Our eyes told
each other everything.

Entry ~
*I walked into the sea. I dove beneath the rolling waves, and released every piece of me to the sandy pits underneath my feet. I came here to find some peace, to relinquish the pain I've been carrying, since the day my soul was born to this spinning planet of blue and green. I think my soul is made up of the past, of lives I've lived over centuries passed. I can't explain this karma any other way. It's stacked up against me, towering so high, I must've done something truly awful in a previous life, because there's no way it's karma from this one. I've paid for my mistakes in this life. I've done my time, endured my suffering for the mistakes I've made here, but I can't do anything about my previous lives. I don't think I payed my do's then. I think I ran. I know I did, because there is always an incessant urge to flee, deep inside me, whenever something goes wrong. It's instinctual, kind of like a lion chasing a gazelle. It's a natural instinct for the gazelle to flee when it's being hunted, and for the lion to chase when it's after prey. I think I've been running from the lion for centuries, maybe even millennia's. I don't know who the lion is, but I must've done something truly awful to deserve being punished through lifetimes of karma. I think this karma is how I'm supposed to know he's caught me. I've always had this feeling, deep inside my chest, that life on earth is a punishment. I was sent here to learn a lesson, and maybe I haven't been able to figure it out. That's why it feels like I'm constantly reborn, over and over again. I think in this life, I'm starting to figure it out. I think when I die from this incarnation, I'll transcend beyond the heavens. I'll go back to where I came from thousands of years ago. I'll go back to the place where the lion lays. I'll face him, and hope he doesn't **** me, or wound me to badly. I have to face him, because I can't keep running. I can't be reborn here again. This place is truly hell, but at least I find peace when I'm floating in the salty sea. It's a refuge for me.

You are so much more
than the thoughts
that keep you up
in the middle of the night.
Breathe easy,
this will pass.
Just like it always does.

I speak to the moon
in the dead of night.
I come to her
when her light is bright.
I confess my secrets,
beneath the starlight,
and pray there is not
another soul in sight.
I dance with her sprites,
around the firelight,
and listen carefully,
as she recites her rites.
I give her my secrets,
and she ties them up tight,
hanging them high,
like a stalactites,
that shimmer
like the northern lights.
In return she incites,
that we unite each night,
so she can hear me recite,
my love for her,
beneath her loving light.

I can hear love
in the hardest rainfalls,
and see it blossoming
in the blooming roses.
It is easy to find
when you know
what to look for,
and easier to hold
when you have
a delicate hand.

It is fall again,
that time of year
when the veil
between realms thins,
and the dead rise from
the depths of their graves,
to roam our world,
and torment the living.
It's the time of year,
when children fear,
the monster in the closet,
and the boogeyman
under the bed.
It's the time of year,
when werewolves howl
at the full moon,
deep within the dark woods.
Fall is here,
and with it comes the time
for the dearly departed
to resurrect,
and share the world
with the living.

In this life
you will meet those
who hold on to your pain
like it’s gold.
They will
treasure your failures
and silently smile
when you fall to the ground.
It is their nature
to be so heartless and cold
because they don’t see
the love
they hold in their own soul.
The suffering
they see in others
gives them the illusion
of an enlightened mind.
When really
all they have
is a heavy soul
weighed down
from an egotistical point of view.
These are the souls
that will flap their wings
forever
without ever
lifting off the ground.
Then
there are the old souls.
The ones
that give their all
to living a life
that’s pure as gold.
They come from
the roughest cut of stone
carrying the heaviest baggage
under brittle broken bones.
Yet still
they smile
as they pass by
the young souls
desperately flapping
to get off the ground
unaware
of what the old souls discovered long ago
they must
sacrifice their wings
and be willing
to take the stairs
with all their baggage
with eyes full of tears
because that’s the only way
they will ever
get out of here.

November 20th,

Drowning in moonlight
beneath the november sky
the stars shine like lanterns
across the desert night.

The tranquil waters
of the Colorado River stop time,
as patiently— I wait for sunrise.

There’s nothing quite like it
over the San Bernardino sky.

I am reclaiming my dignity,
with every word
I hold between clenched teeth.
I don't want to talk
about anything anymore.
I don't see the point.
If I speak about the secrets,
I've locked behind doors,
It would shock,
and shake anyone to the floor.
It's easier for me to store,
these secrets in my core.
I can keep them safe there,
and keep my dignity warm.

I shed tears of moonlight
for every sin
I have yet to commit.

I'm sinking slowly,
beneath the waters surface,
but I'm not fighting.

There is a bridge
that connects me
to a place of love
in my empty head.

It's called music.

I can feel her pulsing
through my veins
she’s a silver sun
without a name
her love is like
a fire untamed
a burning breath
of summer rain
she bound my heart
with a silken chain
and held my soul
as she stole my pain
her loving light
hides no shame
between our gaze
there is no blame.

This journey
has awakened
something deep
inside me
for the first time
in my life
my heart is full
thawed
from the cold
with love
for myself
and the scars
that mark
my soul
will not
go untold
but instead of
ripping me apart
they’ll be let go
reclaiming my divinity
my tarnished spirit
is forever whole.

I often wonder,
as I gaze at the sky,
if all those stars
that shine so bright,
are really just hearts,
captured by the moon
in the dead of night.

I gazed at the sky,
and watched,
as the sun eclipsed the moon.
In that brief moment
of pure blackness,
I heared a calling
from the stars above.
They channeled their
radiant and pure,
bright,
white light,
through that brief
moment in time,
to just barely become
loud enough,
to call me home.

I'm drifting
through my dreams,
occasionally colliding
with a hint of certainty.
I'm higher than I seem,
fighting the concept
of reality as a means.
I'm lost in the sky.
I can't remember why,
but life is just easier
when I get a little high.

I see summer skies
hidden behind
your cloudy grey eyes.
I won't let you hide,
not when rainbows
betray your every lie.

Sunday mornings
come and go away.
I see the sadness
written on her face,
when she's lost in sleep
there's a language
that she speaks,
between her lips,
and the tears
staining the sheets.

Do you think the moon
loves the sun,
anymore,
than his thousand
mistresses of stars?