How do you measure
What can't be seen
The heart of a man
The in of between
The conscience that follows
When something's done wrong
How do you measure
The depth of a poem

How do you measure
The day you must face
If it's taken for granted
If it's given in grace
Or measure a seed
That has yet to show growth
How do you measure
What you do not know

How do you measure
The hour before late
The width of a shoulder
Where a tear is laid
The inkling of an idea
The moment it's made
How do you measure
Love before it's given away

How do you measure
The chill of the wind
The guilt of the pleasure
That comes from within
The sliver of light
Before the sun has it's say
How do you measure
The end of the day

"To watch the water of the open ocean dance as it bathes in sunlight, there is not a more calming sight."

I miss writing,
Writing the happy poems,
the ones before my mind left me.

The ones about fantasy,
about the me I desired to become.

All those have left this brain of mine,
The reality forbids I cross this threshold.
I know the truth in all, crushing the dreams I once had.

I am no longer confused, just curious.
I know not what I should.

I have lost myself,
and can never be found.
*To this realm I am eternally bound.

"Nothing worse than realizing you're right when they told you all along you're wrong"

Cherie Nolan © ,2016

You call this art,
My constant need to write things out
For better understanding, to map them
Out on pages covered in watercolor
Paintings, my use of anything I can get
My hands on to create something
And you look at me in amazement
When I show you what I have done,
When I show you how I took all of my
Emotions and turned them into
Projects that some may find beautiful
But you don’t see the pain behind
Every word I type and each stroke
Of my paint brush or each eraser mark
Littered on illustrations I try to complete
And you don’t see that I try to mend
My broken heart with artwork so it no
Longer bleeds, this papier-mâché
Creation is all that I have that keeps me
Pieced together and
Sound of mind
And you look at me in amazement
And call it art
When really it’s just my attempt
At surviving.