I miss...

The stroke of soft finger tips
The buzz from touching lips

Like lightning in a jar
I miss the hairs in my car

I long to find a soul again
Break free of all my chains

Not a moment forgotten
Memory's weave like Egyptian cotton

Hairs stand, soldiers on a neck
I've become a ship wreck

Love left me bearing all
I will fight to stand tall

Time will heal this void
My heart far from destroyed

Miss her, I do though.

'The sun loved
the moon so much
that he died
every night
to let her breathe.'

the beautiful forbidden lovers
never able to meet
to share warm kisses

but I remember the sneaky Moon
she sneaks out of her dark domain
I see her in bright daylight
swathed in the Sun's golden touch
opposite in the sky
they watch each other
with love so pure

although she is forbidden
in his bright domain
she is there
because she believes
that nothing is impossible

and the day comes
when they can meet
for but a few minutes
they embrace in fire
and we stare in wonder
as they meet
but then they must
drift apart
with broken hearts

she blows him kisses
whispers
'goodnight, my love'
as he sinks beneath the horizon
bursting into colors
and the Moon cries
and whispers
⠀⠀
'I love you.'❋

It's a miracle.
You know? You're a miracle.
Just the sheer biology of thinking, dreaming, creating, destroying, sleeping, waking, crying, running, hiding, fighting, loving, loosing, growing, shrinking, living, dying, writing, erasing, giving, receiving, feeling.
Words, they are our miracle.

How do you redeem yourself?
How do you forgive yourself?
Oh, in this world full of hate, lies, and opinionated minds,
How do you tell yourself,
"Everything will be fine"?

When circumstances let it,
That you fear to face,
Yet regret not to do it,
How do you tell yourself,
"Everything will be fine"?

When there is nothing left,
No one left whom supports you,
When every force known to man
Has gone against you,
How do you tell yourself,
"Everything will be fine"?

And when people are only pretending to accept you,
when words no longer matter, but only to argue,
How do you accept yourself and say,
"Everything will be fine."

She is both,
hellfire and holy water.
And the flavor you taste,
depends on how you,
treat her.

I was not born a

poet.

I was broken into

one.


*Sandoval

i failed.

again...

so what's new?