How often we feel ashamed
When our skin could glow,
With all the ruin
We have survived
And turned into poetry,
All the defeat we withstand
And walk away from,
Leaving yesterday
And braving tomorrow

Will we wither away to nothing
Or will we build a bridge
With tethered hands
Tied to the pursuit,
Grounded by the earth,
Defiant
And determined
To find nirvana
Beyond the wilderness

To hold pages
In your hands
Is a world
Awakening

The bubbling brook
On the river's edge,
The fierce knight
Nearing the stone ledge

Mysticism
in the ink,
Lyricism
in the structure.

There is peace
In this,
Reading
Until life
is Colored,
Blurred,
and whole
Again

We entwine
Our bodies
But our souls
Are Worlds
Apart

Crevices Aching for Connection
Touched by
Wandering Hands,
Unknown
to foreign
Hearts

Heartache
Pierces
Who we are,
And what we hoped
To be;
May it unravel
Our loose ends
And turn them into
Calligraphy

You’ve gotten so lost
In never again
You’ve forgotten
The symphony held
Within dark clouds,
The harmony
Of thunder

Joy
Wittles away
When a candle
Of passion
Is snuffed out—
But oh
How the spark
That lit it
Did shine
Bright