everyday is the same
but
inside me a
rose is blooming

they whisper
whathappenswhenitdies?

they forgot that
dried petals
are beautiful as well

I used to believe
he had eyes the color of the ocean

I’m not so sure about that today

but I know his heart
is the color of the bottom of the deepest sea

every poem i write
is about you.
every last one of them.
no matter how hard i try
to fight it.
every single letter.
has traces of you
pressed right under the ink.

Mental illness is like burning paper in the daylight.
You can hardly see the flame, but the pages disappear.

i wrote you
a letter every day
letters to tell you
just how i feel

written in neat, curved
writing i told you
just how sweet
i thought you were
how you made my heart
glow

letters in which i wrote
with various colors of ink
pouring out my whole being
to you

i wrote you
a letter every day.

i wrote you letters in which
i told you how you made me
bloom.

eventually
i found myself
pressing harder on
the paper
than i had before.

creating tears in them
similar in shape
and size
as the ones
inside of me.

i began to send
letters
with creases
and bumps
and stains
splattered with tears

pouring
from my eyes

as i wrote
the anger
bubbling within me.

my last letter
addressed to you
contained
no words

but was blank.
because
i had none that

could reach
as far

and deep

into the cracks
of my
heart

to describe
just
what you

had left
of me.

she with pastel pink hair
like cotton candy waves
falling from her head and
foggy white skin
like a porcelain doll
adorned with gingered
freckle specks
sat on a park bench
warm creamy coffee
quietly steaming in her hand
just watching the commotion
the rush of the world spinning
right before her amber eyes
they say
get your head  
out of the sky girl
come back down to earth
but don’t they know
she was born there
in the marshmallow clouds
and she can hear them
calling her home again

King.

If my arms aren’t
Reaching for you
What am I grabbing for

          I am tormented
          Ready to be saved.

If my lips aren’t
Whispering your name
What am I calling for

          I am empty
          Ready to be full.

If I am not
Falling down for you
What am I kneeling for

          I am broken
          Ready to be Yours.