Self love is
that sip of tea
keeping you company
like liquid glee.
Self loathing is
that bottle of ***,
your only friend
to turn you numb.
Self love is
watching the clock
strike ten forty-five
and sleep like a rock
Self loathing is
3am coming violently
as your brain screams
ever so silently.
Self love is
putting down the pen
saving that next line
for who knows when.
Self loathing is
stabbing the pen
through the paper
again and again.
Self love is
waiting out the storm
taking a deep breath
and keeping warm.
Self loathing is
hating every raindrop
and begging for
this storm to stop.

Sometimes I wonder
why you stopped loving me
and then I self-reflect
and wonder why I
stopped loving me
too.

Two souls sprouting
like two sunflowers
beneath the sentimental sun.
There are no shadows,
just light and love
and you and I.

Life was a kaleidoscope-
made up of the most vivid
colours and emotions and I
remember them like
they were yesterday.
But somewhere along the way,
it was as if a filter had been
placed over everything.
The colours still remain,
but are now lifeless and dull.
This washed out perception took its toll,
and soon these greys began to paint
this soul and all that it experienced.
Everything that made up the kaleidoscope-
the colours, emotions and experiences
now shades of grey-
shadows of their former selves.
It's an empty feeling to exist in
a world so vibrant when
all I see are shades of grey.

Silence comes in
many shades,
for good or for worse.
Sometimes the soul can take
solace in silence and
sometimes it can drown in it.
Other times we cannot tell the difference,
and we are left to decipher our soul
and what shade of silence
it chose today.

I saw the
spring sun
in your eyes.
The way the yellow light
danced off those beautiful orbs,
like bumblebees on dandelions.
These moments of gold
may one day fall
into autumn's grasp
but the sweet taste it leaves
in my mouth will never dim.
Sweet as honey,
sweet as amber.

I try not to let my
shadows consume me
but some nights
are too dark for
my light.

A strong name for a
majestic sort of goddess
that I had the luck of meeting.
She sang her song-
one of which
captured my heart
and one of which
we can both
rejoice.

she was a teacher
with a heart the size
of a mountain.
I set my sights for its peak-
as many others have
only to find myself
gasping for air.

Sometimes I write
about women who
might not even exist.
“She” is a figment of my imagination
and “she” is perfect in all the ways
that I can’t comprehend,
but I sure as hell try
to write it down.
I sure hope that one day
I will meet her.

She is a star
crushing under the weight
of yourself and everything around you.
She devours my light-
it breaks and bends to her will.
Nothing can escape your grasp,
your gaze or your touch.
The force of you is what
always repulsed me.

I want the atmosphere
to be filled
by your grace
always-
but not always
am I able
to see you.

She is
a night full of darkness,
wine and solace.

Some leave,
and when they do,
they take a piece of
your soul with them.
How many more have to leave
until I am nothing
but a shell?

Once a crab has made
a home in one shell of a heart,
it is difficult for it to find
a home in another.

She is alone
day after day-
night after night.
Alone between pages and
in between each pen stroke
are the secrets she
keeps to herself.
She'll tell them one day and
they will explode out of her
like the supernova
that she is.

She was beautiful,
but not like those girls on TV.
She was beautiful,
for the way she thought.
for the way her eyes
twinkled when she talked
about anything she loved.
She was beautiful,
for the way she made me
smile like no other could.
She wasn't beautiful for her material self,
she was beautiful right down the soul.

I’m shipwrecked,
left in the dark - stranded
in a never-ending sea of despair.
I was sailing for nowhere,
doomed from the start.
No need for an anchor
when I have no destination
or no home to call my own.

When your ship
came crashing back to shore
I knew the ocean didn’t love us
anymore.

You’ve been
following me out to sea
hoping to find paradise
on my voyage
but I am nothing
but shipwreck and storm;
a tsunami leaving nothing but
chaos in its wake.

She is as bright
as a shooting star-
her trail brings beauty
upon this world.
Although I try to her,
she will never be within my reach.
But just to be in the presence
of such beauty is more
than I could ask for.

There are still stars
in the sky where you sed to twinkle.
Sometimes I am lucky to witness
a shooting star when we talk
but that is fleeting in an
otherwise dead sky.

I fell in love
with a shooting star
but forgot they are
destined not to stay.

I wish people were
more like shooting stars
that would disappear in
a flash of an eye,
leaving no trace but
the memories of something
that was once beautiful
rather than the sun-
an unforgiving and inescapable
giant that leave us burnt
and burdened.

You are
no longer here,
but just knowing that
we share the same sky
is good enough
because those shooting stars
carry the wishes from
me to you.

Maybe my poems
are so short because
I wish to avoid the pain
of remembering
too much.

Life is increasingly
turning into one big "should've"-
perhaps it has always
been one.

You want a sign?
Honey, if you are in need
of a sign to convince yourself
that it is right,
it probably
isn't.

Your silence
did not imply that you
had nothing left to say-
no, quite the opposite.
I heard everything crystal clear
from the silence that followed-
a silence so deafening,
I wasn't loud enough
to respond.

My silence is
every word, every scream
I have had to swallow.

There is nothing
to fear from silence.
Silence can be a
beautiful thing so learn
to embrace it.

You want me to stay silent,
but how can I?
I cannot do it anymore.
There are emotions,
there is blood,
there is love
that cannot be silenced
and one day she will understand.

We love in silence-
our love is evident in our actions.
We are the silent lovers-
we are one in the same.

Sometimes,
between this distance,
darkness and silence,
your voice will break through
and sing away the sorrows and shadows-
a reminder that we are never
truly alone.

My soul's melody
can still be played but
it is missing your voice.
It is still pleasant to listen to
but without your harmony,
I will forever sing alone.

Like the rain
drowns the plants,
your words drown
this sinking heart.

I have not been whole
in quite some time.
Too many nights spent
pouring my soul into songs
in hopes to fill those holes
you all left in me long ago;
words, chords and harmonies
that will never bring you back,
nor will it undo the past
or take me back in time.
And yet at this very hour,
these songs are stuck in my head
and I have no resistance
to their siren call.

The stars will rise
into the night sky
while the waves will ride
the eternal sea.
No time,
no space,
no deep or no high
Could ever keep this
away from me.

The demons never really leave,
they only slumber in the
dark corners of the mind.
They do not leave,
do not let them fool you,
they will hide and wait for the
right moment to wreak havoc upon
the soul once again.

One day,
someone will want
your smile as the first image
they see for the rest
of their life.

Does your smile
bring you as much joy
as the thought of
yours brings me?

To think of you
smiling makes me ecstatic,
as if I could feel the joy
radiating from every photograph,
as if I was lucky enough
to see you smile
in the flesh.

She was the
best dancer
in Tennessee.
I thought she
was going to
marry me.

I'm famished,
I'm tired,
I asked for a glass of water
but left with my heart of my sleeve.
You came back for breakfast
but I came back for
one last goodbye.

Even when I
write about you,
the ink that smudges
upon my hand takes
the shape of you.

We’re jumping from island to island
on an ocean
in the clouds;
It doesn’t matter
Anyway.

There are countless ways
to show your love,
each way unique like
every little snowflake,
each one glistening to be seen
in all its intricate beauty.  
Let my love fill your skies
with endless snow like that
of a Christmas morning.

Hand in hand,
dancing in the snow
where time doesn't matter.
And even though we
remain in the darkest corner
upon the darkest shelf
of this antique shop,
we have found each other-
may this moment last forever.

The clock strikes 3:33
Oh what a time to feel so lonely
The rain outside, it’s bittersweet
The air is thin, a pulsing heat
And every night you’ll tell yourself
That everything will be alright
You’ll pick your journal from the shelf
And find solace in the night

If our love
is a war then
I am the soldier
that promises to
lives to tell
the tale.