I sip on my green tea
wishing for it to cleanse me.
Wishing for it, to cleanse out the oils and the misery I consume.
Wishing for it to break down my toxins.
Wishing for it ... to cleanse the sections of myself that even I cannot reach.

Green Tea

A substance that supposedly detoxes the belly, but not strong enough to detox the soul

Not strong enough to take away my shadows, my doubt, my ego or my woes.
A drink, not strong enough to hug my spirit at its loneliest hours.
Yet, I sip
.. praying the wet herbs that tickle my tongue shall unlock the gateway, or the path, or the door... to my soul.

So I sip...
And sip...
And sip...

Swallowing it’s brew...and my tears.

I have kissed boys

Girls

People in between

But lately I have been kissing bottles

Their lips are colder than yours

But slowly I have realized that the pounding headache when I wake is less hurtful than the shattering in my chest

Yet as these toxins rush through my veins

I can't help but miss the tracing of your fingers along my skin

Miss the numbness of the world when you lie with me

But when I wake I remember that a headache is treated with an aspirin

While heartache

Well if you have a cure for Heartache let me know

She's the cover that draws you in
From the front to the back
She's the book I'd love to read

She's a real page turner
Dog eared from right to left
She's the book I'd love to read

You just can not put her down
And with that being said
She's the book I'd love to read

With a voice angelic
From the vast heavens above
She's the song I'd love to sing

Sweetly hums her melody
From here to kingdom come
She's the song I'd love to sing

Is there anything more welcoming
Than the air filled with song
She's the song I'd love to sing

Sweet fragrance to the point
Where that is all I need
She's the air I'd love to breathe

Feeling all a-flutter
Light headed in her breeze
She's the air I'd love to breathe

Far more than my lungs could hold
But not less than I need
She's the air I'd love to breathe

Dear HP,

This is not a poem
But a question
The answer to which
I do hope you have

Why does my lover claim to love me
But still looks for every opportunity
To let me go?

Is it that she loves me so much
But doesn't think she's worthy of me

Or she doesn't love me enough
To think I'm worthy of her?

Poems aren't written,
they're found,
Somewhere in your head the words are waiting,
They're sprawled across the floor,
You just need to pick them up,
Make a path with them,
Let your path guide observers,
And if you can't write,
Walk down somebody's else's path first,

The day  has now gone here is the night
It's twelve o'clock all lights gone out
Not a single soul no one insight
We look out the window no one about.

Eyes are weary we are fighting sleep
Time to clime up that wooden hill
Waiting for us is the bed and sheets
Tired and drowsy sleep we will.

The evenings are colder
The frost here again
But we are much older
And our health's not the same

So as we head to that slumber land
And we dream our cares away
We pull up the blankets with our hands
And say goodnight to the day.

you get one day to cry
but tomorrow
it’s time to fix your crown

“i love you”
those words
                      d
                         r
                           i
                             p
                               p
                                 e
                                   d
                                      from his lips
i believed his deceitful manner
his charisma, it was alluring