Why haven't I written a poem about kissing him yet?

Maybe because when his lips met mine they took my words with them
And maybe words can't describe his lips but his lips
Are made up of words I just can't make out
Because I just want to make out with them

His lips are music humming a melody,
A warm, vibrating rhythm
Lighting up my soul with fire
And I feel as though I'm glowing

His lips are not just words but a whole set
Of lyrics
Singing to my heart

We are the ink lines
Tangled together to spell out a word
That I just can't put my finger on
I'm sure it's somewhere on his lips

Now that I know
You feel this too
I'm at a loss for words

I'm stuck in that moment
Of butterfly bliss
All since my feelings were heard

I'm still picturing that second
Your arm brushed mine
I'm still looking up at your smile

But I don't mind it
I've waited to find such
A sweet place to stay for a while

It snowed in Louisiana today
And stayed for a while
We were encompassed in white
I in your smile

We drove the slick roads
Passed houses on ice
You laughed at my wander
How I almost cried twice

And who would I want to spend
The day with but you
You made this experience
More than something new

The snow was fleeting
As it left in a day
I'm okay with all that,
I just hope that you stay

Everyone is excited about snow
But here I am at 4am
Wondering if I'll see you later
And if you'll accept
That invitation to lunch

There is something exhilarating about
These first few moments
Not knowing
If the rain will turn to sleet or snow
If you'll say yes or no

This Louisiana cold
Leaves me needing warm
My chilly heart is yearning
But will you do it harm

Just please, don't keep me waiting

I write to breathe.

I don't know if it's the smell of the coffee or the warmth of the cup

But there's something about this coffee shop that heals

Complete strangers scattered among booths and bars, chatting over a charging laptop

Scribbling passionately in a notebook

Different jobs and different lives

Dressed in scrubs, a suit, sweats

I want to converse with them all

These living stories

Because through these people I discover more and more about who I am and where I'm supposed to be

There's something about this coffee shop that's home

When did poetry replace sleep for me?
And since when do I write about people before they say goodbye?

There's something about the words
That describe you
And how I wish they would pour out of me all at once

But right now, all I can say is

Hello

And the next few pages will tell the rest

There is something about sunrises
That turn the world green and gold
They wake the birds who chirp and sing
They replace with new, the old
There is something about the contrast
Of the light behind the trees
The morning draws a picture
With the darkened limbs and leaves

There is something about the song
In the quiet of the morning
Interrupted by sharp chirping
The dance of the new day dawning

There's something about the smallness
Of this big, round planet
That makes you tilt your head and wonder
What you've taken for granted

So just remember while the sun is rising
You can surely bet
That somewhere on this small, round planet
Someone is watching it set

If I could climb up into the night sky
And jump from star to star
To land upon the moon,
I'd apologize to it
For the way we don't appreciate its beauty enough

I'd apologize for every sunset I've watched without looking around to find its silver beauty, as I was immersed in orange and red

I'd apologize for laying back and finding the constellations in the sky but not staring in awestruck wonder at the beauty of the craters. Shadows dancing in the light the cresent gives off

As people, we should aim to be like the moon. Simple, with it's graceful imperfections, it's different dresses as time passes by and our shadow overtakes it

As people, we should not try to shine so bright as the sun, that we might burn each other if we try to look within

We should not be like the stars, so set apart from one another

We should be the moon. Silent, silver, saving graces. The light that shines in the dark and the craters that leave a mark.

The night air is breathable
in Louisiana for once
And we're sitting outside a coffee shop
under a full, December moon.
As it turns a gold to silver color, climbing it's way up higher, cars are zipping by on the highway behind you
And I wish I were close enough to hear every word as your voice gets lost when those tires pass us by

Or maybe I just want to be closer

We've sat here for hours, enjoying the peace and the conversation
and I can't find any want or reason to leave

There's something about the way the moon tells time and how we don't realize it but as it finds its way to sit up above us on that cloudy night, ringed by a circle of light, time has passed.

And it's beautiful: the empty parking lot, the stream of headlights, the open sky and the moon's quiet presence. Your smile.

It's one of those moments I don't need a picture of because it's already taken its place on a shelf behind my eyelids

And now I'm emptying out the old frames, leaving old pictures in the back of my mind but making room and praying for more moments just like this one

Her walls hold
All of her memories
And drawings she
Has created

In her closet
There's a wedding dress
Vintage, lace and
Outdated

Her wrists are decorated
In varying bands
Bracelets from places
She's been

Her voice sings out
Melodies so sweet
As her uniqueness shines
From within

From the outside
She makes life
Look easy
And free

But on the
Inside
She knows
It can't be

That doesn't stop her
From living and making sure
Life isn't short
Of love

Because no matter
What struggles have
Torn her down
She always rises above

She might push you away
She's not quick to trust
But she'll care for you
To no end

She's been broken
Lied to
Torn apart and won't
Let it happen again

So when you find one
Like her just remember
You must
Hold on as tight as you can

Because she's got her
Head in the clouds and
Can make herself happy
Without ever having to land

She can sit
In silence for hours
But her heart speaks louder
Than words

She's never had
To talk over others
To let herself
Be heard

She embraces the world
Around her
And holds it deep
Inside her heart

She has so much
Care for others
That it could
Tear her apart

It might be
Dangerous to care
It might beat her
Up inside

To care too much
Is to hurt as well
Because her feelings
Can never hide

But what she
Doesn't know is that
This trait makes up
Who she is

She has a heart
Of gold so big and bold
In which we
All live

So don't take her
For granted
When she lets you
Into her heart

Because just like
The beautiful pictures she takes
She herself is a work
Of art

Remember this
When you find her
And realize what
You have to lose

Her strong heart
Can take so much
Because it's so much bigger
Than you

You can look at old pictures
And know
He put that smile
On your face

Or you can keep walking forward
Head held to the sky
Clothed in confidence
And grace

You can remember the way
It felt in your heart
When he looked you
In the eyes

But don't let it fool you
Because the same blue that held you
Told you lies and
Made you cry

You can dwell on those moments
It just felt right
Rewind, reminisce
Or regret

But instead you can keep
Walking forward because
God isn't done
With you yet

There are times in our lives
That held the most happiness
But ended in oceans
Of tears

We can't let that stop us
From moving on
We can't leave ourselves living
In fear

Fear of tomorrow
From the hurt of the past
Will haunt you and
Tear you down

But remember who made you
Took all that away
It's at the foot of His cross
In the ground

So stop living in moments
No longer meant to be
Bury the pain
In the past

Hold onto the promise
Of tomorrow and know
God's love will
Forever last

The rhythm behind lies
Is the whisper of truth
The face behind the mask
Might be the real you
The deception that you
Have taught me to fear
Is drowned out by the music
That I've learned to hear
I listen closely now
To the words they say
I read between the lines
I don't let them get away
With filling my heart
And my mind with their lies
Hiding behind their
Sincere, honest eyes
You will keep on making
The same mistakes
While I learn from mine
And realize what's fake
People say so much
That they don't mean
To make you think and believe
But have you truly seen
The way some people love
Without meaningless words
Because though they say nothing
Their truth is heard
I know what you're wondering
How can this be
So instead of just listening
Open your eyes and see
The truth is always dancing
To the melody of lies
Because it is free
And will not be disguised
So hear the soft whisper
Of graceful, steady movements
And see honesty twirling
With a smile of amusement
What is so funny
To honesty you ask
In the face of a lie
Integrity laughs
Because while she's dancing
To the music of sins
She knows in her heart
The truth always wins.

Some people are like the ocean
When it comes to their place in your heart
They come and go so endlessly
But they always leave their mark

Sometimes you're like a sailboat
Drifting carelessly away
Into dangerous seas as you
Try and get them to stay

But it's better to be the sailboat
To try and never stop
Than to be reaching out but never moving
To be the stubborn dock

Because what defines bravery in love
Is the final effort that you make
Not staring boldly out to sea
While your loved ones drift away

In the place where I grew up
You can see how things wear out

How moss falls from the trees
How some still sways about
How rust has taken over
And turned
Metal into red

How wood has turned
From brown to gray
And cracks began to spread

In the place where I grew up
You can see
That time has surely passed

You can see that though
We’ve all grown up
Some things always last

The memories of our bare feet
Skipping
Down
The road

To Maw-Maw’s
Where we could smell
Hot gumbo on the stove

The sound of rusty chains
Swings swaying with
The wind

Voices drifting to and fro
Telling stories of where we’ve been

Purple flowers
That grow like weeds
At the start of every spring

I’d pick them all and put them
In my pockets as I’d sing

We left our marks on all of it
The road, the grass
The wood

But it seems as if
These old keepsakes
Have done us all some good

These materials and these places
These objects
Left to dust

Are full of all our memories
And have left their mark on us

The things my family built
Must have built us too

Because they’ve stayed strong
So long
After everything we’ve put them through

Things will wither
Away with time
Some things don’t last forever

But this family
Who built my home
Also put my heart
Together

So whatever comes and goes
I know
I’ll always return

To this place
Where I grew up
To this place
In which I learned

That family
Is the one thing
That doesn’t ever go away

So no matter where
I go
My heart is here
To stay

She tried
To blink away
The memory
Of the sun
Across her pages

As the wind
Made them dance
The words became
Ballerinas
On stages

She breathed
In the moment
Surrounded
By the pink
And blue

The soft feel
Of the grass
The scene
Mesmerizing
Through and through

It only
Took a second
To glance
Down
At her book

But she
Decided it was
Time
To give it one
Last look

To her dismay
She found
In awe
The trees standing
Alone

Before she
Could
Take it all in
The sun was
Too far gone

She wants to be
Alone
When the memories
Rise in waves

She wants to sit
In the sand
And watch them tumble
Without being saved

She wants to feel the warmth
Of her tears
As they grow closer
To the shore

And as the water
Reaches her toes
She wants to
Remember even more

She misses being
Able to
Feel every ounce
Of love

She wants to drown
In the happiness
Her heart is
Reminded of

She wants to become
A part of the place
Where the ocean meets
The sand

So her mind
Can come and go
As it pleases while her heart
Stays safe on land

Fifteen
You should be
Concerned with pimples
Braces maybe
Who to take to homecoming
What new shoes to get for school
This year
And not,
Not ever
At fifteen
Should you have to learn
That you should not take life
For granted
Because at any second
It can be taken away
And that friends can be
There one moment
Gone the next
Fifteen
Should not be
The last age you see
Fifteen
Should not be
The age you’ll forever
Be dreamed of as
Fifteen
Too young to know love but
Too childish not to be in it
Fifteen
Too young to have to cry
Over one too young to die
Too young to have to fly
On your own
Fifteen

If I were a bird
I would flutter far and wide
I would sing these words
Instead of write them
With nothing left to hide

If I were a bird
I think I’d look a lot like a book
Without binding
The pages would be my wings
With feathers slowly unwinding

If I were a bird
You’d never question what I see
For I’d swoop down and tell
my story
The wonders flying free

If I were a bird
I’d soar above the trees
But I’d land every so often
To rustle their brown and red leaves

If I were a bird
I’d paint for you pictures of
this world
But right now I’m simply a
wandering
Bound-to-this-earth girl

I hope to one day feel
Such freedom in my
Thoughts and words
And fly above the trees
As if I were a bird

The best type of love is mindless. You don’t have to wonder how the other person feels; you don’t have to question the way you feel. You simply
Feel
With every part of your being that you are right where you’re supposed to
Be.
They say it’s effort, double effort that keeps a relationship strong. But to me, it should all be easy, never forced.
“Effort” should be
Effortless.
It should be effortless in that you cannot control the beating of your heart when your love is near. It should be effortless in that you cannot help but stare or smile or see the future flash before your eyes. The words “I love you”
Should slip
Right off
Your tongue
As if you had no choice but to say them or stop breathing
Entirely.
Love someone mindlessly. Take in those moments in which you are overcome with tranquility,
Contentment.
The simple feeling of being right next to the right one.
Mindless
Effortless
Simple
Unconditional
A love as habitual as breathing

Why are we so confined
By labels designed
To separate and define:
|This| and |That|?

Have we become so bleak,
We can’t see the unique?
Do some still think
This world’s flat__?

Do we only perceive
The beliefs we received
When we were conceived
Without question  

Do we simply look
At the cover of the book
And know what opinion it took
First impression?

We are not confined
                              To articulately designed
          Words that define
                                             Who we are

We are not a belief
                     Nor a structured motif
           Stuffed delicately into
                                                             A bell jar

In this one-way-or-the-other
World
Somewhere in the black and white
Find the gray mixed in the middle
and one day you just might
tell yourself,

I am a human being
Incomplete but slowly seeing
That I do not have to be
What the world wants to see
Because the truth is this:

I define: |mē|.

Will you ever find a
Man?
An all-too-familiar question.
A man.
As if without one I will surely become an old hag
With cat fur embedded in my furniture
And a deep sadness embedded in my soul
As if finding a man is the very most important part of my existence
As if I can’t do things on my own

As if the meaning of life is placing the
          Letter “r”
Between M and s until death do them part
Sealed with a period at the end
                                                Mrs.

Right now, though, let me be.
I just want to be
Me
Period.
When you spend too much time looking for a man amongst millions of boys you waste the time that could be spent looking for
                                                                                              yourself.
But when you let yourself crawl out of that tiny corner of your heart that no one could reach,
You realize that the most important part of your existence is the discovery that your soul is complete without attaching itself to another one

So stop looking for the soul who will “complete you”
Search for                          your soul

And the rest is simple: The foundation of knowing yourself will last forever, even if bricks crumble and the doors fall off the hinges on someone’s way out.
Fall back on knowing that YOU create your happiness.

Your absence is the silence I hear
following my thoughts
late at night
in a half empty bed
where I lay with just me
and the voice in my head

Where are you now
and when will you be
lying right here
arms encompassing me

It's hard to be happy
when no one is listening
but even harder to hurt
when I don't know who I'm missing

Loneliness is easy
when there is someone
to long for
but what happens when there's no one to miss anymore?

Isn't emptiness the lack of something that once filled up an entire space?

So what happens when nothing was there in the first place?

Dense midnight fog
Embraces the empty
Small town streets
And I can only see a few yards of yellow paint in front of me
The light of the full moon gives the
earth-bound cloud an ominous glow
And I'm in awe at the beauty of it
The yellow lines guide me on a path
So dark I can't see what's coming
But I know the eyes of the moon
can see where I'm headed
And if I keep moving forward, cradled by
The dense midnight fog
I'll make it to where I need to go

A ripple of brake lights
A cacophony of horns
The screech of rubber
A crown of thorns

We're all just trying
To make it somewhere
In this stop and go life
This polluted air

So many different exits
Off an interstate
Bumper to bumper traffic
But we can't be late

We rush so much
That we're at a standstill
We can't get up high enough
To see what's past that hill

We always say it's good
To stop, then keep going
To keep that pace
To keep life flowing

But why don't we ever
Pay attention to yellow?
That in-between place
Where we just. go. slow.

Maybe we don't need to
Stop and smell those flowers
And maybe we don't need to
Count down the hours

Maybe we need to live them
One by one
And let Him worry about
All things under the sun

Because instead of just loving
This life that we're living
We forget to slow down
We ignore mercy given

We run through life
Like criminals at large
We get stuck in the past
Lose sight of who's in charge

So pick up that cross
Instead of driving by it
Our Savior did it first
Maybe we should try it

Follow him wherever you go
Don't let him get away
For the true and mighty Shepherd
Won't lead his sheep astray

In all of this stop and go in life
Where are we really going?
Home, some may say, a kingdom
Though the journey there is long

Sometimes at night
A monster comes
And knocks on my bedroom window
And in spite my fears
I crack it open and let him in
It gets lonely here, anyways

He chains up my wrists
He forces shut my eyes
And he snickers as I silently
Reluctantly
Cry

Remember?
He whispers
Don't you remember?
And I do

The memories flood my mind and
Pour onto my pillow
Where they have stained
The soft fabric
Over the years

What could have been
What will be
Years of endless pieces
Of my heart
Shattered for this monster
To see

Loneliness
Is the monster
That creeps through my window

Sometimes I even let him sleep under my bed
Or curl up on my pillow
And whisper
Thoughts into my head

But it's all my fault isn't it?
This loneliness.
I let him in, anyways.

It's clear tape
Glistening around a broken
Shoe
Heels aching
From standing up so long
The lightness you feel
Laying down after a day of hard work
The steps you took to get here
The people you had to leave behind
Who you once followed
The finish line
That only starts another race
Through the next few pages of your book
The steps that make you, break you,
Take you
To where you're supposed to be

These pictures I stare at
Look back at me.
I wonder, sometimes,
What do pictures see?

Have I changed at all?
Or have I stayed just the same
As that girl in the pictures
Who shares my name?

Is this where she hoped
She would be in the world?
That smiling, vibrant,
Lighthearted girl.

Did she hold onto her dreams,
Her morals, her faith?
Or has that hope faded,
Leaving no trace?

There’s that picture on the beach
Where she reads a book in the sand
Or the one where she stands with
Her family hand in hand.

Little do these
Stilled moments know,
She can still hear those waves
Rolling as the wind blows.

She can still feel
The chill of that rapid, blue creek
As her toes and the water
Reluctantly meet.

These moments were captured
But they never stopped time.
They piled up like shells
That the tide left behind.  

The current is constantly
Shaping the shore.
She won’t always be
Who she was before.

But one day she’ll be looking
At pictures again
That don’t always show
Who she is within.

Eventually she’ll be able
To look back and say,
You would be happy
With who you are today.

A half-full shot glass
A decorated grave
A 21st birthday
The 6th one you didn’t
Celebrate
In the cold chill of that night
The shot of Crown burning my throat
Did not warm me
But the words you whispered
From a half-lived life
That you lived to the fullest
Blanketed my heart
And calmed my soul
And I knew

That no matter how long that glass sits half-full in front of your grave, your half-lived life that you lived to the fullest will overflow from the sky as blue as your eyes and your love will pour onto us like rain in a drought.

Leaving our hearts half-filled with your
Spirit
The other half living in Heaven

For a while it took away
Her smile
And in its place left
An almost-hidden frown
That would try to stretch up at the corners
And then fall
        back into place
As if the sadness in her eyes
Told it                               “not right now”
And it hurt
Not only did the chemo hurt
Not only did the needles hurt
It hurt to see her
hurt

For a while it took away
Her will
To think positively
To get out of bed
To shop, her favorite hobby
And for a while
it took her laughter, and its contagiousness

But as her hair fell to the ground
At the swift claws of that razor                         Something changed
Because no matter what it took away
it could not, and would not, ever, touch her                      Faith
Everything she lost made that faith stronger
And in that faith she again found

Her smile, her will, and her laughter

She began to feel the beauty in the struggle and the sense of how
benign
it was to He who
Created her smile, her will, and her laughter

I don’t see how anyone can look into the eyes of someone who has suffered, blue eyes that shimmer with the light of a faith so strong it’s become deeply embedded into them, and say there is no Savior

I can tell you that when I look at Nan, and see her will, her smile, her laughter, I can tell you that I’ve seen the wonders of faith first-hand. I can tell you that yes, I’ve seen a Savior

Loving me
Is late night lines of
Poetry
Read or written
Living vicariously through
Television shows
Loving me
Is new each morning
Hair straight
Hair curly
No make up today
Throwing on that pair of converse filled with coffee stains
Loving me
Is singing in the car
And pretending I don't know how tone-deaf I sound
Smiling at strangers
Drinking caffeine responsibly
Thinking I should probably pray more but never making the time
Loving me is
Saying no to that date
Working late
And waking up early because
Why would I want to miss one more second
Of a new and undiscovered morning
Loving me
Is finding myself
In a cramped desk in an old classroom
Under short, thin blonde hair
Between the bindings of a book
Curled in the sheets of my own bed
Chilled from a running fan
Because I like to be able to snuggle up
In blankets and pillows
And wake up searching for the socks that
I kicked off overnight in the warmth of my makeshift nest
I am a bird
And loving me
Is flying
High up in the sky
Away from the
Lying
Loving me is
Appreciating solitude
And listening to my own needs
When you ask me why I'm
"Alone"
It's because no one took the time to understand
How to love me
So here I am
Learning that before, during, and after loving someone else
I should always,
Forever,
Unconditionally
be
Loving me

Before the murky waters came
Life was different
Maw-Maw’s red-bricked house sat at the back of our dead-end road
The ever-welcoming glass door with the
Faulty hitch opened up to a two-step stair
Leading down into a living room
Encompassed with the smell of
Cajun cooking
And basked in the essence
Of Family

After the murky waters came
Life looked different
I remember the water whirl pooling into the tops of my
rain boots
As I trudged next door to my aunt’s water-lined house
To comfort Maw-Maw, who lost everything
Her tears falling into the stench-infested puddles at her feet
And jumping right back up in a splash as if they too
Were hurrying to find shelter

The heat of the sun held the
Stench of the monster
That had us all in its grip
Patches of brown grass mocked us
Where the water had decided to leave early
And accumulate somewhere else

Piles of our lives lined the driveways
Mildew fogged up the windows of
Miscellaneous cars and trucks
Which still held secrets that the murky waters left inside
What could be salvaged
What remnants were left
From before
The murky waters came

Floors were ripped up
Walls gutted out
Bricks broke easily under the weight
Of demolition
Our hearts broke easily under the weight
Of the water

I once watched a documentary about horror
Which was described as something that simply should not be
but somehow
is
Horror was the bulging, black molded bar in my kitchen
The scattered furniture in my living room
The stench that took over my senses at the opening of a door to go inside or outside; fresh air forgotten
The fact that my bedroom looked normal in spite of the soggy carpet and the
Drooping painting hanging on my wall,
Clothes strewn across my bed in an effort
To survive

After the murky waters left
Life was different
Life became “before the flood” and “after the flood”
“Hey, how are you,” became “have you heard from FEMA?”
“What are you up to” became “are y’all raising or demolishing?”
Three mountains of bricks down my road became
Trailers on pedestals
The trash, our former possessions, was eventually gone
New replaced the old

Now
life is life
We are thankful for what we have
We still sit on that wooden swing in the shade of the afternoon
And we reminisce of a time before the murky waters came
All the while appreciating the
Now

And we still laugh together
We still cry together
Up in that storm-safe trailer
At the back of our dead-end road
Gumbo is cooking on the stove
And we’re basking warmly in the essence
Of Family