you flip through me
searching for our love story
only to find blank pages
where you once spilled ink

It's too much to handle,
flaring inside
like a house fire sparked by a candle.

The larger the fire the harder to hide,
silently engulfing everything it brushes.
Burning the inside while the outside stays intact,

as the smoke rushes
darkening vision,
burning and burning until there is nothing but ashes,
in the burden of hate.

I keep digging
deeper into
nothing,
foolishly
hoping to find
everything.

little drops
of your love
stained my body

a reminder of who
we use to be together

now wash away
with the waves
of healing

as our love derails
the sparks
ignite a fire
burning your touch
it stings my skin,
torching your memories
it clears my brain,
scorching my heart
you char to ashes

we are in love with
who we think we are
instead of
who we really are

The wind whispers in our ears
their last goodbyes.
As beautiful souls
around the world
begin to fly.

Our hands wide open,
Always for more.
Clasping shut,
Refusing to give.

I've lost touch with myself,
left with nothing but despair.
How do I find myself?
I've looked everywhere.

A long road ahead,
journey for me to decide.
Mapping as I go.

Moments are limited,
Last breaths unknown.
Live as if addicted,
To the world full-blown.

I am sand
you are ocean
together, we are
the little grains of sand
caressing
the edge of the ocean

Her arms are tender,
it's where I sleep soundly.
Her lap is soft,
it's where I find comfort.
Her kisses are blessings in disguise.
My mother's love is peace,
my mother's love is peace.

In the depths of darkness,
Your hand reached for me.
I declined.
Yet you did not give,
You reached until I placed my hand in yours;
Turning my darkness into light.

My normal is your weird.
Your normality is my abnormality.
Who are we to decide what is normal or abnormal?

camera flutters on
lens shutters open
pose for the people
but not be one for the people

“I raised my daughter as a son.”
“I raised my daughter as a son.”
“I raised my daughter as a son.”
“I raised my daughter as a son.”
Over and over these words leave their lips.
Smiling as if they have done a great deed.
Yet they will never say,
“I raised my son as a daughter.”

today
is a new day
to compete with my
yesterday

I'm starting to find myself again.
It's been a while.
Like meeting a long lost friend.
What should I say?
What should I do?
With open arms I welcome myself,
letting my soul resonate.

i
do
not
need
no
body
but
me