i am a butterfly
you wanted nothing more
than to watch me fly
but you loved my wings
so much
that you clipped them

they asked...
"why do you write most when you're sad?"

it took me awhile to think.
but didn't answer.

I just started writing
then realized,
because no one will understand
if I tell them they would laugh

if i tell them of what I really feel,
the dreams and hopes, or of what person I've always wanted to be

they wouldn't understand
some would think it's nonsense and some will try to listen but it won't any make sense

because we are all in our own.

everyone are busy saving their own lives

and happy poems?

it's hard for me to take time and jot the fleeting feelings of how the flowers bloom in spring and how summer gives me the time to contemplate on an infinite waves

I just want to feel the moment, for myself.

Then I would feel better.

just like writing sad poems,

it would make me feel better.

When I'd wake alone in bed at 4am
Again
To find you passed out
on the couch
Too wasted to notice
the heart breaking in front of you
I tried every day
But you preferred synthetic hugs
and to hide in a place
where the expectations were low  
Escapes and excuses
more alluring than I could ever be
Through tears I would plead
'Why don't you want to sleep with me!?'
I shouldn't have taken it so personally

But nobody saw me cry
Especially not you
Blind to my own tears
Large doses of denial dished out
A feast for the masses
Perhaps the most powerful drug of them all
My soul mate disappeared
each day
a little more

Maybe today will be different
Hope
The beautiful motivator
Maybe today
It will be me that you choose
Naively believing
that you had control
But then I woke
alone in bed at 4am
Again
Manipulated and used

Your stare, your burning glare
Never looking at me
Examining my soul
Your stare leaves me feeling naked and exposed
Your eyes like a mirror
Mesmerizing, haunting
In your eyes I cannot hide
A reflection of what I have buried

Skeletons in my closet
Flame flickering in my soul
Thick mud, bare feet
Moving through life without living
Your light shining at the end of the tunnel

Twisted branches of my mind
Whirlwind of spirit
Captivated by a feeling
Captured in a moment
Drowning in a dream

In the fogginess of dawn
In the haze of today
In the hope of tomorrow
Your eyes dance upon the horizon
Glimmering in faith
Forthcoming truth
Questioning all
My reflection

I’m angry at the world
For not playing fair
And then mocking me
When I do

I hate all the apathy
That stands and observes
And makes no attempt
To enforce the rules

I’m angry at all
That I have to give up
To wait for my turn
And take only my share

I hate that the meaning
Of good has been altered
To apply to group ethics
That are coated in shame

I’m angry to see
How the cheaters will win
And honesty comes
A poor second

I hate all the smugness
(Check Paul Ryan’s face)
And those who are like him
Cheating their way to their goal

I’m angry to be cursed
With the gene of fair play
Permanent - same as
The brown of my eyes

I hate that I have to
Spend so much time hating
Hate is an acid
Dissolving my soul
                    ljm

there are drops of Jupiter
in your hair
and
laughing jewels trickling
out your eyes
a harem of moons
hanging from
your pretty ears
constellations your
background music

even when i look at your
night face,
comfort and in peace
i am reminded that
yes,
even the largest of bodies
can be coaxed into their
loving orbit
the lord of worlds
fits inside your
smooth palms
and cancer
is surmountable.

things fall apart
and like a nudged glass chandelier
we came crashing down
on cold, hard marble

wouldn't it have been nice
to be made out of plastic as well?


maybe then,
we wouldn't be in pieces.