you are a summer night

the way you keep me up

so hot the sheets stick to me

i have to open the windows,

take off all my clothes

morning comes and i still

feel you on my skin

It's funny
When someone changes you
And all your poems
Don't make you feel the same way anymore

But it's a sigh of relief
Your body feels light
Your heart is pounding
But you are calm
While you read all the old words
And can't feel their emotions

Your bones are empty
And your eyes are heavy
With tears that are only coming from
The deep place inside your body
That you haven't heard from in months
Months

Waiting was painful
Waiting so long for this to happen
But never imagined it would feel
Quite like this
You never dreamed
That you would be so happy

By Chloe Elizabeth

I think poetry is for the dependent
Those who can't strive a day without
Constant writing, perpetual recording, meticulous brushstrokes
On the painting of a vibrant story
Told through heavy language or light yet elegant babble

Or perhaps it's truly for the lost
Those lacerated and devastated
By life's inevitable nature,
The deviously maleficent,
Or even their own bewildered selves.

Still, I look back
At the days of unbecoming
Horrible ignorance and unprecedented knowledge
Proverbial wisdom and undiscerning youthfulness...
When life was a default wonder.

Poetry had not been my guide
Without a pillar I trudged on.
Yet! What a horrific period of life!
Oh, if only then I had the mystical treasure
Of which I certainly possess now

I think poetry is for all who appreciate it--
If not, then those who take from it,
The insecure, shameful, resentful, narcissistic, far off, logical, illogical, confounded, missing, gothic, dying, feral, lonely, creative, incapable, hopeful, and dead
It's our universal language
In times of hope or death

Pillows hold so many secrets.

There's the tear stained nights
and midnight chit chats.
There's whispers of regret
and sleepy heads.

Some turn to pillows from over exaustion
and others toss and turn with insomnia.
Drunken heads that have passed out
and ones that block out the bad with sleep.

Sleep talking, monolouges and bed time storys.
"Dont worry my darling it will all be okay"
Woes are spilt and soaked in
by our trusted pillows.

*If only they could talk, oh the secrets.