I want an after dinner poem
Because they are so delicious
A poem on a pillow
And one after I do the dishes

I want a poem for breakfast
Cause they are so mentally nutritious

But most of all
I want you in my poetry
Because you are the best
Poem I could read

Form in figure fitting perfectly
Moving and talking to me
You are poetry in motion
You are artistry in thought
You are the queen of my desire
Because you make my poems
Shockingly hot

So write me a love poem
A poem of love lost
A poem of philosophy
Of such sweet sophistry
And what you have gained
And all that it cost

Give me a biographical picture
Or a nature walk

I want a poem
That is the truth of you
And in exchange
I will give you the poetry of names
And call you humanity

and YOU watched

me as i looked

so small

standing

under

the twinkling night

sky

catching shooting

stars on my

toungue,

wishing

that this

night

would

go on

forever

like the endless diamond

sky

that YOU

kissed

me under,

the moonlight

casting a faint

glow

on YOUR breathtaking

face

as YOU

promised

to love me

forever,

the same

moonlight

illuminating

a trail of

tears

sliding

down my

cheeks

as YOU

break

that promise,

break

my heart.

YOU

told me

YOU

would give me

a star

to wear

on my left

finger,

and that

i had a

smile brighter

and more beautiful

than

saturn's rings,

and now i

watch

YOU walk away,

leaving me

alone

under

our moon.

YOU told me

i was YOUR

everything,

and now

i am

merely

another star

in YOUR

ever expanding

galaxy.

But I still love the way
her freckles are only on her nose
How she can't dance but she
tiptoes across her kitchen
in her socks
There is beauty in the
dirt under her nails
As she grows her mind
This is not an ode
to how she drools in her sleep
Dreaming in puddles
then jumping in them afterwards
She's always liked the rain
She won't beg you to love her
She won't command your trust
She doesn't believe in warfare
But she doesn't mind a fight
She's been fighting herself, leaving her covered in scars
She sleeps alone in the comfort of her own skin
Always alone..but she doesn't mind
This is a poem dedicated to the love she gives to herself
The love that he couldn't give her
The love she can only give to herself

Expressions of what grew,
                      but you felled it.


With  a singular word,
         love fell like a tree in a forest..

No one knew it was unheard,
except in the heart of the fallen.

Lying at my feet the outstretched remains of where I was,
silhouettes fragmented beyond their holding.
Naïve in the realization that this could have been
retained any longer than this.

I kept it within this vase, never watering it hoping
it would wither, but somethings don't die.
Petals would dwindle and stagnate where they
had collected in the shallow corners of dejection.

Jagged portraits painted on the ground were fading
to nothingness. As I walked away that vase of
depleted meanings, of fading desolation now were
singular from me.
                     I was never holding it again, I'm now free.

Even in death,
          your last words
were cremated within you.

Like a whispers
                    in a jar
rotting in your lungs.

Words were maggots
             eating away within
                         yearning for release.

Silence is louder
but more subtle,
    
               for the answers

are seen more than spoken.