This world is big
and I am small
yet my troubles still stand ten feet tall
here I lie in a broken jungle
lay down those leaves like you laid down me
and all I want is these trees to be broken down
it's the only natural destruction I'd be happy to advocate

There are Amber's and Jade's and Ruby's and Scarlett's in this world
Their spectrum of colours and beauty excel the grey in my heart
I was born in the dust and dirt and I'll die in it
I am not a jewel exposed, like them.

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i've never anchored another,
nor been so catapulted
as to sense without sensory
those high-reaching and
boundless realms where
loving you is littler than
thought and twisted
feel into infinitum.

yet my affections cease not to dwindle
you remain my (mis)guiding light
my lighthouse in the heavens,
wrecking me on earth.

i am not nearly a victim
but mourning is appropriate
for futures focused naively.

My mind is a garden;
Overgrown,
Blooming far to much for my own good.
Every August a flower appears to shower me with water,
Touch a petal to my cheek,
And wilt away
As each
"I love you"
Turns frail in my fingertips.
A red rose grew
Ridden with thorns;
I couldn't hold on long
Without bleeding.
Garden filled with weeds
petals blocking sun,
Impossible to breathe.
Red as fire,
Borne of blood
Dew turned to rain
Until I couldn't tell tears
From flood.
I loved you still.
Winter came and nipped your neck
But you grew
Into someone else's garden.
And on valentines day,
You made her eyes like daisies.

You're the light
In a sea of reeds.
Salt clinging to hair
Bubbles kissing eyelids.
You're the grains in my toes,
Crashing euphoria.
A wave
Returning when the moon calls the tides.
You're a feather
Without a reason to fly
Or bird to pay homage.
Skin of a seal
Sliding peacefully;
secrets of past storms
leaving bellies weathered.
You're the mender of flesh
Torn on tiny pebbles.
Each budding heart
Back to the sea,
To mend in the only arms
Guaranteed to remember my name.

when I perceive
that I am
not enough

I cannot help but think
it's because
I have lived in constant
fear
of being too much

I haven't been drawing lately.

but I have been
swimming through a lake
of forgetfulness
and loosing sight of who I was
I forgot
just for a second
that second bleeding into the next
dancing on the edge of change
who am I now?
the same as always?
or a drunken, high, working mess of an adult
but it works being slightly homeless
and falling into something
I wasn't expecting.
Change is different.
and growing up *****
why did I only see this now?

I haven't been drawing
and I need to keep these chubby hands busy
while I am figuring out what we call life.

I haven't been drawing
so I grab a pen
and remember who I was.