It happened during the November rain
When the earth was drowning and dark
Seeing you was like breathing
You pulled my face between your warm hands
Kissing me so deeply
Filling my lungs with your sweet fire
Frost melting down my skin
My body shaking; caving in
You envelop around me so I wouldn’t slip back into the shadows
Perfectly in place
You have always belonged here
I’ve never known a love so strong as your fire
I believed you when you said you would never leave me again

Writing happy poetry is tedious
But I want to try
I find putting happiness into words a galaxy-sized challenge
My bones have grown weary of the fire and brimstone thundering through them
My heart has grown desert dry of the melancholy that has consumed it
I have lived a life believing tragedy taste sweeter than wholesomeness
Force-feed beliefs that all around wealth comes only after a life absent of love and a full heart  
And I have years upon years of bitterness and rage as a result of believing in societal ideals
I want a heart full of wholesomeness
But happiness is more than sunshine, birds singing, and flowers blooming.
Happiness is smiling and, for once, meaning it
When laughter comes effortlessly
My body no longer being pushed down by bricks upon bricks upon bricks
It's waking up and wanting to get out of bed and wanting to start a new day
Happiness is the mindfulness of not being irritated by delays or mistakes
And not being brought low by the aspect of having to try again
Learning to forgive yourself
Happiness is being at peace with the silence between moments
Time doesn’t exist where happiness lives because there is no rush to get life done
Happiness is living
It’s time I start living

Let your pain be pain.
Don’t hide it under beautiful metaphors or a smile.
For the love of God, don’t push it so far down that you’re walking every step on thorns.
Let your pain bleed through.
Holding onto the ache will not make you stronger.
(Believe me, it will not.)
Pain makes skeletons.
It makes you bitter, angry, and numb.
Gripping so tight that your knuckle turn white will not dilute the burn.
It will wilt your soul.
Pain does always not build character.
It just hurts.
Pain is a wound that festers.
It will wait years upon years for it to be picked at.
What do you believe will happen when it begins to bleed again?
Let the pain flow.
Let it slip out of your wounds and roll down your eyes.
Let it pour out of your mouth till your voice is shaken to the core.
You’ll thank yourself in time.

Life is a burden we all bare
But it’s up to us wheatear or not to care
Once it was hard for my body and soul to dare
Do I go where dreams lair?
Meaningless, I believed
Living in a reality which does nothing but deceive
Defeat, this life would surely force me to concede.
And as I looked up to a broken sky
Droplets fell upon me for afar
Miraculously, I began to dream
The kind of place this world could be
If fear wasn’t King
And hate wasn’t the Queen.
Into the night I screamed
To a god I no longer had the faith to believe  
Send me to a world where mothers and fathers still love their sons and daughters
A reality worth living
A life worth bearing
I want to dream a dream worth sharing.
Life is a burden we all must bear
And it’s up to us weather or not to care
Do you dare go where dreams lair?

I’m emotional
And sensitive.
There is no rational reason as to why
I cry harder,
Feel stronger,
Tire quicker.
I don’t know why I shatter into fragments from the smallest of things.
It’s a maddening incontinence.  

I’ve learned to grow.
Seeds of wisdom blossomed from once parched dirt
Over the ages I crawled and bruised my way through.
I have a clearer understanding of how the universe works now
But I am in no way a master.  
There is still so much more to discover
And that alone is what I believe grounds me.
That simple curiosity
Of what will happen next.

I’m emotional
And sensitive.
There’s no rational reason as to why
My soul pours into everything without my consent.
As if it’s always desperately reaching out to grasp something.
An error in being human, I suppose.

I have grown to see that I wear my heart on my sleeve.
It’s a fact I sometimes have difficulty accepting.
A fact I often shun away
Because it can be crushing to feel so much, so quickly and all at once.
I wish I were better at pretending
And hiding from feeling
But I can’t seem to wrap my heart in clever and beautiful metaphors or allegories like some can.
There are many things left to learn, I suppose.
But what I have learned so far is:
When a person says they do not feel
They are the ones who feel the most.
I know this to be true
Because I say the same lies too.

There is no God here
And even if there once was
He was a 2-D dream at best

I am fond of the shadows
Thick soft blankets
Protection from the tension of the light
I favor walking down empty sidewalks
Illuminated only by the gentle glow of street lamps

It’s quiet here
In a manageable eerie sense
The footprints left by yesterday
Are the only signs of life here

During the witching hours
Where the world is at its most silent and asleep
Magic fills the air
Creating a new reality

I feel like a guardian
—Or a ghost—
Of the night
Watching over the slumbering people of the city
So they stay undisturbed in time for tomorrow’s strain

I walk through the cold, empty streets
Alone
As a keeper of the night.

I want to apologize to all the poems I never wrote down because the rawness was too much to bring into existence
Some things are better left in the dark
Away from others to hear
Away from myself to see
Yet I know theses denied truths will find their way back to me
From the very depth of my unconscious
What I will do with them
I do not know
Deny them light again, prophase
But maybe—if I am strong enough by then
I will brith them into life
An take a breath of relief

“Why are you still here?”
Is the question she asked me the first time we met.
I was not fazed.
I was not hurt.
I felt nothing.
It is a question I ask myself at times.
I answered with a dry voice in a body that was so quite
It felt like I may be stone.
A stillness so fragile the slightest wind could shatter it.
“For years I’ve crept along life aimlessly,
A ghost with no voice.
Staring at the EXIT sign that follows me everywhere.
I want to go through
And yet my body is too stiff to move….  
I’m holding out on the idea that I may be wrong about the world.
About me.
As I so often am.”
And in the hollowness that poisons me,
I found a shimmer of hope that still resides in me.
A hope that I just may be wrong.

Be good
Dear readers
And love the world like you should
For it does not need us
The way we need it
For we are meager in its Eye
A simple dust in time
And it; enteral

I'm not even the protagonist of my own life.

The world moves too fast
Yesterdays in
Is today’s out
Keeping up
Seems like an impossible task
But hey, I’m finally losing that extra weight!

No,
I don’t think this life is quite for me
Apathetic to the worries around
Inspiration and motivation are nowhere be found
Daily live
Nothing but a struggle to survive
To see tomorrow’s Sunrise

In & Out
People go from each other’s lives without a second thought
Exchanging hands,
Promising vows,
Shedding tears,
Making laughter,
Expressing heart,
With a lazy sigh and the turning of wheels
A slow realization begins to form

The world
Moving too fast
Yesterdays in
Today’s out
Keeping up
Seems like an impossible task
But hey,

On days like today
When the world takes a moment to breath
During what seems like pointless hours ticking by

As I lay around waiting for something to happen
Watching the clouds and birds fly high
I can truly say
I’m grateful to be alive

The tickling of rain drops
Racing down a transparent window
A silent voice
Calls through
To witness the simple things take form
Is when I feel most alive

They believe I can’t see it
Their twisted smiles
Saliva dripping from their self-trained tongues
Speaking in their fluent language of Lies
Eyes coated in Sin
(Vanity, the most precious of them all)
Planting the seed of Paranoia inside unfortunate minds
Backward promises; they often vowel
A game of souls; they love to play
There’s no escape from this life of ours
No restart button I’m afraid
No rewriting pages already written
Oh, my poor sweet child-
How I weep for you-
I sincerely do-
To be born into this realm of misery
Nothing is what it seems
Everything what that is
Is not
Welcome to a cynical world, darling

I am the cat who meows to be loved
I am the fish who swims in the warmest of waters
I am the bird who sores through the sky
I am the snake who slithers on the ground
I am the monkey who swings through trees
I am the dragon who breaths fire
I am the horse who rides like a bullet
I am the Wind that speaks
I am the Earth that feels
I am the peasant who has nothing
I am the King who has all
I am the warrior who protects all
I am the angel who knows all
I am the demon who destroys all
I am the medicine that heals
I am the Moon that shines
I am the Sun that burns
I am the fossil that takes many forms and shapes
I am the dreamer who never wakes

Bear with me on this please
I've been craving creativity rather absently
Dismally, there's nothing to guide me
No blissful excitement
No helping hand of inspiration
Not even a half beaten idea
Just a need to reclaim
What I feel like I've lost
(Or what's been stolen from me)
These are just some words within lines
Forming a confession to relieve the aimless craving inside

My love for you is like a sunburn
Painful as an opera, itchy as hell
O, a lesson I have learned
Love is a sickness that does not heal every well
I lay in bed--waiting for the day
Planning for the time my revenge will be paid
And with a smile painted on my face;
I will send you to your cold, heartless, fiery grave.
I'll sit by your tombstone with fresh, strong skin
You craved my soul into the deepest of caves
And so the Laws of Right and Wrong I will bend
To replace what once was mine, I take on a sin.
In the dead of night, you will hear me sing:
Witness what you have done to me
For I am your new King.

Sticks and stones
May break my bones
But words cut deeper than you’ll ever know
It’s a torture so ever slow;
Crushing bones to ash
An activity so expecting
I almost find it welcoming?
So swift, we slash
So eagerly, we bash
Too often, we find ourselves staring at a way out
Too often, we continue running in circles
Back to what we wish would fade
Addicts to abuse; we moan
Sticks and stones
Oh my love, how they can break the bone
But words are the sharpest weapon mankind will ever know
And while my body and soul absorbs these scars
Promise one thing darling
The next time we play this game of sticks and stones
Do not utter a single word