he is the gun in my mouth he is the flames in my hands he is the pills on my tongue he is the smoke in my lungs he is the alcohol falling down my throat he is the sin I didn't want to make.

there are days where I feel pointless,
even a bit sad that my poems are
merely a drop in a vast ocean of
thoughts and expressions

why bother writing and sharing?

I sometimes feel insignificant,
and compare myself to others
and feel like I fall short.

there will always be people who write more clearly,
more beautifully with clear imagery,
but none writes like me.
I write, because I must.
sometimes the words build up inside of me,
and if I don't let it out it will slowly eat me up from the inside.

I write and share, because even though my words are like a drop
in a vast sea, at least like water I am connected to others by sharing a little snap shot of my life, thoughts and feelings.

I write, because it reminds me that I am worthy and loved enough to allow the beautiful act of creation to work within
me.  

I am part of the process of life, I am part of the whole, I am part of the "We."  

I am not alone.

I miss those midnight walks,
Those alone times with sticks and stones and rock...

Clad in a thick jacket,
Earphones in my ear sockets...

Not for the music though,
But to keep away that eerie silence that seems to flow...

I miss those walks,
When to myself I talk...

That somehow by being alone,
I could free those bottled up feelings my heart borne,

That somehow all those emotions,
By the moonlight would dissipate and with nature find perfection...

I wish I could see myself as another,
Seeing what other people saw but don't know for sure...

I always think the darkness helped,
It seemed to shroud and protect...

The day did not have that,
It was filled with eyes, and stares and ALL of that...

People are afraid of the dark,
It has that feeling so bleak and stark...

But ah, those midnight walks...

How I miss those silent times...

The dark was not really dark...

For nothing can compare with the dark hole of my heart...

I don't know whether you really left a scent
Or I just remember your smell
But it sure smells like you
Or it sure smells like memories

I wore this tonight because it's cold
I remember how your hugs gave me warmth
Now all I got are chills
And this sweater that doesn't even fit

I wore it a couple of times before
I wore it one Friday night
It reminded me of how we used to go out on movies
and eat whatever we like,
but mostly candies and chocolates
and cold coffee and ice cream

I wore it one hot afternoon
Weird, I know
Maybe I just want to feel you
or I just want to remember how it felt
I miss being cuddled
But being near to a piece
of clothing that once was yours
is the closest and only thing I got
Better than none, I guess

I wore it on our anniversary
It was sure a heck better if I celebrated it with you
But nope, all I got were mementos
and high hopes, and this sweater
along with other things that don't fit
your shirts - too big for my frame
my thoughts - too messy for my brain
memories - too overwhelming for my heart


**Funny how I treasure
the things that don't fit

I am just a little star in your horizon
It's enough to see you glance at me once in a while
But then I craved and I yearned
Now I don't want to be just a tiny star
I want to be big enough to be the one you want
and close enough for you notice when gone,
*I want to be the sun

Somewhere
in the last
heart
that has
never
been broken,
lies the key
to all
that we have
lost.

Flames dance
over the bones
of an unfinished
sonnet,
now half-remembered
and strewn about
the ashes
of a love
huddled 
in the cold.

(Trigger warning on this one for those who may have suffered or those who know those suffering in addiction )
Belief beginning between crossed lines
Roadways leading through lifes times
Again the echoes called on through
Wondering again how much be true
Chemicals chains as manacles be
Searching forward to be free
To wake in mornings with clear eye
Making decisions that don’t make us cry
Finally willing now to try
Against the odds of times gone by
Walking with addictions shadow close
Believing soon it to be a ghost
Hoping of life to make the most
No more just voicing the same idle boast
About the things that now should be
Not caring should my addiction disagree
Making life now just for me
And if in this passing friendships be
All too well through the fog now I see
The clouds of addiction lift to leave me free
(GE2014) (C) Reserved