she gave me her nudes
she was bare
and naked
and so out
and open
and i willingly
accepted it
because it wasnt the nudes
that showed her body
the physical aspects
that made her beautiful
it was the words
she didnt choose
and the spontaneity
that left her
either from her lips
or her fingers
or ink

she was as bare
as her nudes
and i accepted
her for her.

I've been walking around
trying to figure it out

I can't reach out to myself

I'm trying to hide away
the bad parts

the parts you'll never know

I'm building walls
and I can't reach you anymore
closing everyone off

I'm falling down
hiding away the bad parts

slipping away
picking out the bad parts

I'll leave the good parts
you'll love me

Holding myself close

I'm starting to grow old

My mind skates across reality
finding home in nervous habits
a past of unfolding tragedy
diving into water that is too deep
I search for your warmth
in the back of my mind

I grasp into the air and helplessly,
relentlessly my mind pulls me down

Save me. Take me back to the coolness
of early summer nights
blissfully watching the movement
of your lips
you sing only to me
and my soul is found in the center of your universe
your hands wrap around the back of my neck
glide my sorrows away
with the tips of your fingers —
a breeze I crave to live in.  

Fall with me into the warm fields we know
golden light and velvet sound
endlessly and hopelessly wrap me
into you as my soul breathes
a hopeful breath of hopelessness

Hello
Has a lot of meanings
But sometimes it is just a simple way
Of asking
"May I be your friend?"

the most beautiful thing
that god does
to people

is that he gifts them

to each other.

I can’t remember every detail but within the darker memories-
I see happiness.
Each gray, childhood faded image brightens when I recall the love that swarmed that house.
It was a time before I feared,
Before we grieved,
Before life overtook each conversation.
Instead, every face held a welcoming smile,
Laughter was sung with each breath,
Life was nothing but the one I shared with those four people within those walls.
Those four people made those four walls, wrapping around us like an embrace,
a home.

I come from sunlight,
      The sweeping of leaves,
      South London streets,
      Lurburnum seeds;
      Hot semolina,
      A spoonful of jam,
      Hands full of gooseberries,
      That's who I am.

      I come from rose petals,
      The sound of the fairs,
      The smell of candyfloss
      Mist in the air;
      I come from warmth,
      My parents hands,
      Outings to parks,
      Both small and grand.

     I come from knowledge,
     True and false,
     From nursery rhymes,
     And stories and pictures of God;
     I come from gentleness,
     A quiet afternoon,
     From visions of loveliness,
     Sewn on a spool.

    I come from two worlds,
    With different ways,
    A threaded pearl necklace,
    And sensible soles
    A mother and father,
    I think I knew,
    I came and I wandered,
    I looked at the view.

       By Mary **

Not every poem
Will be a masterpiece.
Not everything I write
Will get others to
Be in awe and cease.

But I can try
To craft my words
In my own best way,
And continue to write
Every single day.

I can try to write
What others want,
Or I can just write
In my brain's
Special font.

It matters not how
Well-liked my words are,
Or how many people
Praise me from afar.

I just wish
To pour out my thoughts,
Before my body
Gives in and rots.