I was a collision of roses and thorns,
with every intention to be beautiful.
And you reached your hand out blindly
not knowing whether you'd be welcomed
by a soft fragrance of breathing life,
or draw your hand back with new scars.
But you spoke like thunder,
and you hit me like lightning.
As I have marked you,
you have left yourself on me.
I can not forget the pain I caused you
when you dared to love me
in the season of my winter veins
that left me cold and vacant.
I am sorry, so sorry
that you got pulled into
a darkness that was me.
If I had the opportunity,
I would wash your tongue of me,
my name would be foreign to your mouth.
And i'd meet you again with pruned branches
so you would know that when you reach your hand out
you are safe with me.

I am tired of flinching
at seeds being thrown into my soil
drawing them up to be bullets
and letting them pierce my skin.
I have kept every word in a safe
until I could tie them together
into a beautiful bow around my neck
letting each inadequacy hold my breath.
But i'm tired of this silence.
The echoing screams in my center
are resounding on the walls of my ribs
shaking the chains of each whispered lie.
I am shedding my thin skin
exposing my honest bare bones to every shot
I will live without fear
finding freedom in perseverance
finding freedom in passion

There are moments where I wish I would have walked away.
I wish I could catch a flight back to the moment,
where I completely lost myself in the audience.
I wish I would've taken the road less traveled by,
and said no to plagiarized nights of emptiness.
I would've turned the corner with my chin up,
but I fell flat on my face and scraped my lips
that are now silent with fear and resistance.
And I could say that who I was
has made me who I am in this moment.
but I am not who I am just yet.
I am stuttering apologies, unsure of everything.
I am scared to look behind me,
from the fear that the shadows which are still sewn to my heels
are scheming and plotting to take me back.
But the drum of my pulse bangs on the walls of my bones,
to keep walking to who I will be.
so I put on my foundation every day,
to cover the trail of black eye liner that has dried up against my skin.
and I throw open my closets and climb under my bed,
making every monster see that i'm still here.
after every battle has been won,
I will rest in the aftermath of the flood
that carries me forward past the moments
that who I am today would dance
into the embracing arms of fulfillment.

What is romance anyway?
Is it just a state of mind?
or is it found in a gesture?
I wonder what I would find
if i looked up it's definition
because I am told by movies
the same story over and over
the same definition
Romance is a kiss in a storm
rose petals leading to candle light
candle light leading to a touch, a kiss
Is romance found in a kiss?
Or is  it found in a feeling?
like the way my blood warms in my cheeks
when I feel your eyes lingering on me
or the way my eyes meet the sun, the moon
and my thoughts are full to the brim, of you
what is romance?
and have I found it in you?

my planet consisted of earthquakes
and landslides that ruptured my core
then gravity pulled you from the galaxies
and we fell into perfect orbit side by side

I considered the doctors prescription to settle the air
that was chained to the depths of my lungs
when you spoke life into me
expanding my rib cage, setting me free

the corners of the papers in my journal were designed
by penciled hearts colored a shade of grey
but you painted your hands with rainbows
and left fingerprints along the walls of my insides

you're in everything good in me

but my words often stumble off my tongue
falling flat at your feet in fear
i'll pick up each word and glue them onto your skin
so you'll look in the mirror and see that I love you.

I need more from you.
I want romance and cliches
and I know this may come as a surprise
affection has always hid from me
in the corners of my poetry.
but my fingers are searching
using the blood that flows
from my heart as a compass
and all streams lead to you.
I need more from you.
I need those times when
your eyes tie knots to mine
to pull us together until
gravity has it's way
I need to feel your hands
reach for mine without fear
so I can always be near you
I need more from you.
let your words drip truth
and wash away the doubt that
tightens my muscles when
you go away and we lose more time
I need more from you.
or you'll have never have all of me.

My portion of peace,
is found in the hands
that created beauty in sights and sounds.
Hands that carved out waves
that constantly fall on top of one another
anticipating their return back to solid rock.
Tree tops that rise from good soil
growing rings that account for every year
they've stretched to touch the wonders of the sky.
A sky that is home to a sun
that even smiles through the break of clouds
and holds a moon that even when not whole
still stands boldly against the dark with the stars
The breezes blow and the earth shakes
and all creation sings praises
to the hands that give life
to my portion of peace.