you are so beautiful
but not in the ways you would expect

i saw the sadness in your eyes
how they seemed to escape the prison you held them in
even for the most fleeting of moments
they shone in your eyes for a second
and they were gone the next
locked away where no one would ever see it
yet despite this,
you are humble and always kind
and for that, you are beautiful

i saw the weariness in your bones
aching muscles and tired limbs still forced to do the day’s work
as they tremble in exhaustion
and protest their misuse
yet despite this,
you are steadfast and you are strong
and for that, you are beautiful

i saw your hurt and your pain
moments where your breath is taken away
as you sit numb and in shock
the times you would falter in step
your head bowed deep, willing your tears not to fall
yet despite this,
you do not lash out, you are not angry
and for that, you are beautiful

you love despite not receiving that love in return
you are kind even when the world is anything but
you are beautiful because you are fighting
despite the gods’ insistence to keep you down

i hope you realize this before it is too late
your soul as pure as light radiates from within
and it makes you glow and beam and always look lovely
and my dear one—
if you could see yourself the way i see you
the way you always see others,

then will you realize you are worth it,
that you are beautiful,
and that you are so infinitely loved

Who do we think we are
God's who'll live forever?
Mere mortals on swinging stars
All birds of a feather

Why do we waste our days of youth
On the very young
Age old wisdom tells the truth
We should have seen it coming

The bite of bitter age
Chewing on the pain
Remembrance of the past
But not the present days

The wringing of the hands
Till they go completely numb
Given half a chance
We should have seen it coming

The rhythm of the train
On top these rusty tracks
The days we gave away
We're never getting back

With the hour growing late
In the setting of our sun
Too late to correct mistakes we made
We should have seen it coming

Less of charity
was needed, when you sleep
till dawn.

The spirit of the tree
comes down to
wake up the sage.

It spills the light
for a troubled window
cracked by hail.

A drenched house
of words
becomes pale, page by page.

I do not know
how to tell the story
of two bats which flew without wings.

Night melts into tears
day sums up the pain.
A fear stalks the flute,
and darkness falls on the drapes.
I was a lake
and I was the sun.

I held you on to my breast.
Give me your fangs
and give me your venom.
I was blue and I am the death.

Centuries of wounds
and million of scars.
Silence of sky
and lull in the clouds.
I am the fire
and I am the gale.

i remember someone on this site a long time ago.
they would write unrelenting epic poems that
always made my fingertips tingle in that way
they do when you're surprised art made you
feel something again, you know?

i arrive back here tonight because i've been
doing a whole lotta feeling and far too little art
and i've stopped letting it surprise me.

i keep oversharing when people ask, "how are you?"

i keep wondering who i'm supposed to be at this point on this long path of becoming. i don't know, i've never liked the phrasing but it resounds so cleverly from forebrain to nervous system it's uncanny and unavoidable and ineffable. who am i am i am i am i am i ...

i want to make a map,
a cartography of memory,
charting the granite and
soil, marrow and moss,
river foam, abusers,
flower gardens, wild blackberries --
the purple dabbed away from those
soft parts that blackberries might stain

to wash deep berry blood off
in the public pool bathroom
where she first made you a novelty

to scrape darker
from under his fingernails
with bark from the tree she
made you hide behind

the same park you grew up in

a spot you always caught the sunset
a spot he caught you and the sun seemed always then to set

still haven't gone back

it's time to make a map

quick, hurry up.
If you don't,
People around will try to stop it.
Hurry.
Please.
I say i'm sorry
But then i don't stop.
h e l p   m e   p l e a s e
s e n d   m e   t o   w h e r e   m o s t   p e o p l e
d o n ‘ t   e v e r   t h i n k   o f.

ikeepgettingfurtherandfurtherawayfrommygoals
hurry.
actually,­
F   o   r   g   e   t         i         s   a   i   d         a   n   y   t   h   i   n   g