Writing is funny sometimes
It's as if your mind, heart,
And hand have a
Conversation on all their own,
Without including you.
Then you stare at the page,
And think,
*I didn’t know I felt that way

In my loneliness,
I almost called you.

But then I realized,
even when I had you,
I was still lonely.

And that says it all.

I wonder at what point
us ladies in our
many years of womanhood
stop saying,
boys are the worst
and start groaning
ugh, men, am I right?
Because even though
I  know the difference
between a boy
and a man,
I feel as if I will
always see myelf
as a foolish,
lovesick,
girl.

i am starting to think of him, as my sun.
things are brighter when he is there.
there is more life and light in my life.
when he is gone, it may be a bit darker,
but i have always loved the glow of the moon.
i still need my solitude, my time to be myself.
you have to love both the moon and the sun.
and the stars, the stars of course.
if i am the moon and he is the sun,
my friends and family are my stars.
my ***** of fire that surround me with heat, life, love.
we all fit you see.
with them i am me.
but with him, i shine.
you need the sun to survive, and life is better, life is life.
but you need the time with the moon and stars to appreciate the day.
it all strikes a balance.
i am not sure if i am making sense here with my jumbled similes and metaphors of my own personal universe of relationships.
but just know he has become my sun.
and who knows, it could explode.
scorching everything in its path,
there goes the universe.
but for now, we have day and night and life.
and if it goes down in flames, it was still there.
and a new universe can form from the remnants.

I am lost, and my maps
have turned to ash in my fingers.
I am wandering with no direction,
waiting for someone to tell me to stop.

I read about these trees once,
they grow together, the
two plants intertwine and become one
supporting each other, until they
become inseparable.
When you were holding me,
I felt like one of those trees
pushing myself into you, as
your arms wrapped around me
fingers holding fingers,
thumbs making patterns
on each other's skin.
I never thought we could
fit together like this and
I wondered what would happen
if we never let go.
If we sat there forever,
intertwined.
Would we grow together?
Become one plant?
One body?
One soul?
One.

your kisses,
left smiles
all over my face

hours later,
they're still there

I do not think home is a yellow house on a plain street.
I do not think home is the people in it either.
I do not think home is a town, or state, or country.
I do not think home is another person.
Home is not a building.
Home is not land.
Home is not them.
None of these things, are permanent.
Buildings fall,
Land dissapears,
People leave.
Home is not now, home is always.
Never leaving.
Home is a person. One person.
You. Yourself.
You are your own home.
Love it with everything you have.

I think of pain,
as a mouse.
It finds it's way into
your home, your heart.
And you try everything
to get rid of him.
Set all the traps.
The mouse simply
avoids them.
He finds a corner,
never seen or heard.
We forget it is there.
Make peace.
Then one day,
something happens
to bring it out.
A ripe cheese.
A photo.
And the cycle repeats.

the embers
danced just for me

who knew a
dying thing

could be so
beautiful

He wants to read my poems,
he wants to see what
I have written about him.
I wonder why I am so scared
for him to see my thoughts
laid bare with no filters.
Maybe because I still have that fear
that he will run away
once he realizes how real this is.

I fear I am losing him,
to himself.

He is seeing all the things he wants to be.
I wonder when he'll realize,

that version of himself,
might not want me.

Don't shy away
Step in it
Firm, plant your boots
Squish, until your
Submerged
Slick, dark
Let it engulf you,
You are no longer,
You
You are Earth,
Dirt, roots, and worms
Stay a while, then
Grow, sprout
There, see the sun?
It is brighter now, yes?
Grow,
Up, out
There,
You've bloomed

I've been trying to draw lately,
and failing miserably.
Trying to capture someone,
with only a pencil.

I keep trying to draw him and
I am not sure why.
I have plenty of pictures.
But this is different,
not simply knowing what he looks like,
but remembering it, repeating it.
It could be useful one day,
to have him like that.

Perhaps we should all try drawing our loved ones.
To never forget the curves of their faces,
the dimples, the freckles.
The imperfections the camera blurs.
So we will forever have them with us,
in our hands.
Simply brought out, remembered,
by a pencil.

When I asked him what he was thinking,
he said nothing.

He can do that apparently,
just sit there, relaxing.
His mind a calm sea.

I am always thinking.
I cannot stop.

Waves and waves of thoughts,
always attacking me.
I fear one day, I might drown.

Artists capture moments.
They capture moments with patience, with perspective.
Artists capture moments in different ways.

A photographer will show you the beautiful butterfly,
resting on a flower.

The painter will show you what is out of frame,
a little girl staring in wonder.

And the poet will tell you how magical it was,
how the park quieted for a moment when the
butterfly flew and landed on her nose-

Then there it is - a photo, of pure joy.

Then all three artists, smiling in awe at this moment.
This small, precious moment.
One many would have missed.
But now is forever immortalized,
by observant souls.

I have never wanted someone the way I want you.
I want you in every form.
Give me all the pieces of yourself that you don't let others see.
Let me be the one you can trust with your heaviest burdens.
Give me all of you in the dark.
Let me be the one who unravels you,
please give me everything. I want it all.
And in return, all of me,
is yours.

i've realized that every time
we get close to jumping,
i pull my toes off the edge of the cliff
the impending fall seeming like too much of a risk,
but you never let go of my hand,
I've always been ready to jump, you say
and you patiently wait for me to
inch back towards the edge,
never rushing the process
of instilling bravery back into my veins
it might take me a little while
before i am ready to jump
but as long as you keep
holding my hand
i'll believe you when you say
you're falling with me
and we'll catch each other.

The dress wears the woman
She needs to be confident
Stand tall, chin up
That is how they pick you

You think you decided to twirl,
That was the gown
She wants to be shown off
She wants to dance

The crowd does not adore you
You are no one
A pretty face, a slim figure
That dress, she is the star

Now twirl.

is it selfish for me to hold on just a little longer?
so that when I lose him,
and I will lose him,
I know I am losing all of him.
So that I know,
we had no other choice.

I am scared of
love, loneliness, and failure

I fear that after being
loved, and losing it,

The loneliness will
drown me

And that failure,
will stain everything

it's funny how
things happen when
you never expect them to,

falling in love,
falling out of it.

Trains, cars, planes
Buses, bikes, boats
Always traveling,
You have reached
Your destination-
Now on to the next one
We travel to travel
Being in one place
Is boring, predictable
But constantly moving
Now that's freedom
But it can be lonely,
If you keep
Coming and going,
Who will greet you?
Who will miss you?
Maybe the trains and planes,
Will.

I am a psychic
A terrible teller of time

For I can see
a whole future
with you, a lifetime
Yet I cannot even
imagine,
What our next moment
will hold

my chest tightens
when we fight,
it's as if
everything
constricts
around my heart,
to protect it.
be careful
my body warns,
don't let him
don't let him
rip me from you,
my heart screams

i love him in way
that let's me love myself,
and that is everything

Welcome, please come in
The entrance fee is one smile
After that, for every hour you stay
you owe me a laugh
This house runs on laughter

Be pure and joyful, please
stay as long as you'd like.

he is a shadow of you,
I catch glimpses of you
in his words, his touch,
but he is not you,
you decided to leave
he wants to stay,
the only difference is
I would rather be
burned by the sun,
than safe in the shadows.

Usually, when he
touches me, I
pull away

Today,
I leaned in
held on

My breath
became
thin

My stomach,
dropped,
tightened

It was as if
he was always
meant to be there

I wish I knew
what that
means

every word
out of her
seemingly sweet
mouth,
broke me
from the
inside out

you are the fruit on the table,
but I am the artist.
I take what you are, and
enhance. not just red no,
I give you white, green,
add the sun, the shadows,
the streaks. make the fruit,
more than itself.

you are the subject,
but honey I am the painter.
everyone knows,
a masterpiece,
never makes themselves.

I cannot place,
my feelings onto paper.
I wanted to lock them
away with my pencil.
Hoping to have them
fade onto the page.

I cannot form
my thoughts
into sentences
they swirl, bounce
refusing capture.

Thoughts, feelings
The right and left
cuffs that
chain me to
my mind,
forever captive
immobilized.

Just one person.
One person, one body.
Two hands, two eyes.
One bed.

Just two people.
Two people, two bodies.
Four hands, four eyes.
One bed.

Give me the crowded bed.
The tangled limbs,
Perfectly warm.
Let my sleepy eyes open,
To you.

the Cape is a place
where time stops,
and all that moves
are the waves and breezes,
bicycle wheels and boats

i fell in love with his words,
instead of his actions.

he told me all about our
beautiful future, together.

but he never intended,
on finding it.

i wonder how long
it will be before
he realizes that
he deserves
more than me