I am a bird
With wings to carry me to faraway places
And a song to share with the world.
But my foot is caught
In the pin of a grenade.
And I know
That if I try to fly
My freedom will only result
In the death of all my
Beloved.

- p. winter

I dug a knife into her skull
And slowly twisted it
Until her brain was a puddle at my fingertips.

But she would not die.

I threw burning coals into her eyes
And watched her try to cool them
With her tears.

But, despite the suffering, she just would not die.

I held her head underwater
Until her arms stopped flailing
And the bubbles stopped rising.

And though she drowned, she refused to die.

Something inside her
Was fighting to live.

But I owe her my life for that fight.

I guess I'm not cut out to be a murderer,
I couldn't even ****
Myself.

- p. winter

n
o
  t
h
i
  n
    g

       f
         a
        l
      l
     s

   a
s

s
    u
           r
               e
               l
            y
  
         a
       s
    
  i


         d
                 i

                       d


  
                            f


                  o

        r

­

y
  
    o

  

                   u


                                        .

Clouds all whizzing by
As I free fall from the sky.
The ground comes into view
As my eyes search for you.
I pray you're there prepared
To catch me from the air.
But I look to my side and see
You're falling just as fast as me.

- p. winter

I have feelings
Not for you
But for who you used to be
I still have feelings for the you
That had feelings
For me

- p.winter

the streets are filled with lies
of "how are you?" "oh, i'm fine!"s
strangers smile away all of
the battles that they hide
nobody's fine
nobody's great
it's not polite to articulate
the struggles that you're going through
but that's fine
how are you?

- p. winter

Good little Catholic girl.
Say your prayers,
Love your neighbours.

But not that one.

Ignore the luscious fruit.
The slithering whispers in your ear.
The juice, inches from your lips.

The temptation.

Eyes that entrance you.
Little touches.
Hidden blushes.

Keep it secret.

No one can know
That he isn't a
Good little Catholic boy.

- p. winter

Three have succeeded.
Two shouldn’t count.
One never knew.
None stayed anyway.

- p. winter

you kissed my freckles one by one
til they no longer were imperfections
but artwork marking who i am
worthy of being displayed

- p. winter

The floodgates have been opened,
Love runs out of every pore,
But, without a destination,
It distorts itself to grief
And slowly seeps into the floor.

- p. winter

I can't stop writing
These little, three line poems.
It's haiku fever.

- p. winter

She was a rest in a bar full of staccatos.
She was the note played pianissimo and the key that didn’t sing.
She had no forte in her soul, her steps were slurring phrases.
This girl was the music of a broken string.
Hers were the fingers stiff and cold; and the lip plate never kissed.
A metronome of self-doubt always ticking in her ears.
Never allowed a change in tempo, never shown to spread her wings.
Singing lessons from the deaf for 15 years.

The other was a pickup note, anxious to play the tune.
The dancer skipping steps up ledger lines.
The crescendo of passion, the diminuendo of a lullaby,
This girl no blaring trumpet could outshine.
But though her eyes were made of stardust her heart pulsed slowly, portato.
No accompanist, no duet, no conductor to keep the beat.
Her cheeks stung from the disguise, her worry slowed her, legato.
Compensating for loneliness with quick tempo deceit.

But, like broken triads, fate had it the two would somehow fit.
Drawn together as tied notes, destined to play their piece.
One so controlled by the orchestra, the other yearning for a duet.
The enchanting harmony within them had always burned to be released.
They played as one instrument, arpeggios overlapping in a heavenly key.
Swinging in synchronization, the melody swam magically through the night.
No longer controlled by metronomes, no longer stuck singing solo,
Forever, together, their own sheet music they would write.

- p. winter

"... had an early lunch."
"... already ate... not hungry."
My daily white lies.

One hundred pounds. Most
Teenage girls' dream size, but the
Weight of my nightmares.

"... eating disorder..."
The last words I hear before
My head hits the ground.

I don't even feel
it anymore. My body
Got used to starving.

A penny for each
Meal I've thrown out could buy me
Another water.

Work out until your
Size is small as your daily
Calorie intake.

"You're far too skinny"
They don't see the fat girl that
Lives in my mirror.

- p. winter

A colour bringing memories of days long passed.
Of blushes, brushes of skin, smiles and laughs.
Of almosts, could-have-beens, should-have-beens and would-have-beens,
Of staring from across the room and yearning a stare back.
A colour, warm, with flashes of scenes
That repeat themselves in dreams alone.
A colour, beautiful, though bland before
That was thought to forever be despised.
This colour, hazel, a calming storm.
This colour of your eyes.

- p. winter

be still my heart; beat
no more for those who try to
silence your rhythm

- p. winter

He didn't love me.
He loved the way I danced to our favourite songs.
He didn't love me.
He loved the curious way I admired simple fish in the pond.
He didn't love me.
He loved the way I frowned when I knew I was wrong.
He didn't love me.
Right?
He couldn't have.
Because that would make me a monster.
To see his hopeful heart
And leave him nonetheless.
He didn't love me.
He didn't love me.
Dear God
Please tell me
He didn't love me.

- p. winter

I hope he never makes me choose
I pray He never makes me choose

- p. winter

A gentle chorus wafts through the air as abandoned castles sigh, like a cat resting in a sun patch, and ancient cathedrals unitedly chant the song of religious history.
U nveil the glistening treasures deep within the mines of the mountain side; feel the butterflies in your stomach as you dive down the shafts.
S ing the song of the Alps as they enchant you with innocent snow and seductive diamonds, with charming forests and guilty avalanches.
T aste the morning brew on your tongue, basking in the warmth on the cafe patio, listening to the street musicians purify the tourist's ears.
R ed rooftops, orange balconies, yellow sunsets, blue skies, purple chocolate bars. But nothing is green here; for this land envies none.
I return through the skies like the prodigal son, having gone for so long, missing the life I was born to live; but everything is different now and the streets I once called home have become foreign.
A ustria, my mother, I remain an orphan.

- p. winter

my only hope left
is that you're looking at me
when i look away

- p. winter

live simply
feel intensely
love passionately
write dramatically

- p. winter

For if I told you that I love you
Anywhere but my poetry
It would give you the power
To walk away.
So for now I will write
'Til the pen falls from my hand.
Never not loving you
And never not denying it.

- p. winter

We all want the highs and we all want the lows
Of emotions to which we succumb,
But when high is elation and low, devastation,
It's easier just to go numb.

- p. winter

I replay it in my head

L osing our temper
O verthinking
V iolent words
E xaggerations

Y ou walked
O ut the door
U ncivilly

S till, I wait
T omorrow you might come back
I leave the door unlocked
L isten to our song
L et it play over and over again

I pour another glass

A llowing myself to
L ose my mind
W ondering
A pologizing to myself
Y our voice in my ears
S uffocating my thoughts

W ould it have ended differently
I f I had let you win
L et go of my pride
L ooks like we'll never know

- p. winter

I miss you dearly.
You, the one who brought me
All the joy I needed.
The one with a twinkle in your eye
And the curiosity of life
That powered you through
The worst of days.
I miss you dearly.
You, the one whom no one in my life
Mattered as much as.
I miss the laughter we shared,
The smile on your face,
And the love for each other we cherished.
I miss you dearly.
You, the person I once was.
Won’t you come back to me
Again?

- p. winter

Darling, the world is ours!
We can be anything we want.
So let's be immortal
'Til the day we die.

- p. winter

Kneeling o’er your lap,
Along my neck, your shaky breath,
I almost can ignore
Our love’s inevitable death.

- p. winter

No apparent cause
No apparent reason.
Inexplicable.
Tears streaming down her face like flowing rivers holding all her secrets.
Music blasting to cover the sound of her pounding heart and chilling screams.
Fingers running through her hair as she grimaces at this mask she wears
With a beaming smile and rosy cheeks that yell "I'M DOING FINE!"
Because the louder she shouts it the more she believes it herself.
It's inexplicable
Why she feels this way.
Looking for a way out of her own thoughts she runs into memories she thought she forgot.  
Her parents screaming about how to pay bills as their daughter watches with shivers running down her spine.
Friends luring her into a world she vowed not to join with their bottles glistening in the light and the smoke surrounding them clouding her judgement.
Yet it's inexplicable
How she dealt with the voices in her head and the endless possibilities of how to escape them but there was always that one catch.
She hung on for dear life to the rope that would take her dear life.
But she was running out of reasons why her dear life would not be a reasonable sacrifice.
She put up with herself for so long and now, as she crumbles onto the ground, she finds every feeling gushing out of her.
Every night she had spent hugging her pillow.
Every dream she had dreamt that didn't work out.
Every friend she had found that thought she wasn't enough.
Every promise she was given that in the end it would be okay.
For so long she told everyone that she was strong.
She could handle it, she could push through.
But there comes a point where even the strongest ones break.
And when she broke, she thought she'd never be put back together.
For the remaining shattered shards of her heart were jigsaw pieces and no one had the time to sit down and glue them tight.
It's inexplicable
Why this sadness dominates even the happiest of moments.
The realization that nobody can fall in love with someone so broken and hopeless sinks in.
And she sinks to the floor
With her inexplicable sadness.

- p. winter

I know I'm slowly killing it,
But I will display it's drowning corpse, along with those of its brethren, as a sign of my appreciation of it's beauty,
And feel robbed when it dares to wither.
A selfish murderer am I
To **** something so beautiful and full of life
And present it's remains as a present
To my beloved.
I must be insane to do such a thing.
I must be insane
To pick flowers.

- p. winter

My memories so wistful,
          As I grab them by the fistful,
Glint with melancholy ire,
          As I throw them in the fire,
And my desperation spurn,
          As I watch them fail to burn.

- p. winter

I once was a bird
I once could fly
Over ****** dam creeks
Through the blessēd sky

I once had wings
As strong as the Sun
A chant never boring
And never outsung

But winter was always
A season away
As the trees would fade
And the birds migrate

Their v formation
A hopeful glow
Of the freedom I never knew
I’d never know.

Each year with the snow
And the cardinal’s arrival
The Zhaunagush came
As we ran for survival

Lungs on fire
Our only chance
To escape such hellish
Circumstance

Not all of us
Could run so fast
Some fell into
The white man’s grasp

We kicked and screamed
But made no sound
Were silenced ‘til buried
Unnamed, in the ground

I once was a bird
I once could fly
Now caged I sit
Missing the sky

Eggshell walls
Glisten from outside
But within, you learn
What closed doors can hide

It's crazy how you were my entire world.
My entire universe.
And I was not even a speck of dust floating around the glorious stars in yours.
It's crazy how my world didn't revolve around the Sun, it revolved around knowing that somewhere out there, you were smiling your beautiful smile and with those captivating eyes of yours you admired the wonder around you in your world.
Your world.
The world in which the flowers blossomed, excited for the new adventure and every morning the birds sang their enchanting melody as the never ending forests rippled with vibrant shades of green.
And the dew drops sparkled on every blade of grass like the sparkling stars light years away from my universe.
My universe.
The universe where without you the sky became black as ash and the tiny embers forming constellations above me were glimmers of hope that one day you'd return and together we'd flourish in my world.
My world.
Where every day of the year it rained.
Not the soothing rain that brings nourishment to all nature as it trickles down the window on a warm summer evening.
But the persistently pounding, pouring rain that floods homes and shoots bolts of electricity across the sky like scratch marks etched into space as I frantically try to claw my way out of this universe.
It's crazy how some say the universe is expanding but mine was shrinking and shrivelling up without you.
For the mere thought of being without you exploded my stars and crushed my planets until my universe was a cold and empty hole.
Because you were the light that kept my universe whole.
That brought daisies to my gardens and songbirds to my trees but now they have left me.
Left me alone in my collapsing universe because while your world revolved around the Sun, mine revolved around the memory of feeling your strong, protective hands clutching my delicate fingers and telling me that the day you let go is the day the world stops spinning.
And when you let go,
My world stood still.
Still as the ocean resting after a storm,
Still as the tulips waking up in the morn,
Still as my body curled up on the floor.
Because it's crazy how heartbreak leaves you alone with your thoughts.
And I thought that it's time my world starting spinning.
It's crazy how you depend on your universe.
But I am letting mine go.

- p. winter

Curious but reverent,
Like ivy clings to stone,
His hands explore my body and

I wake in bed alone.

- p. winter

I am exhausted of merely being put up with.
Of men saying that I am “worth the wait” and leaving when they have to wait for me.
It will always come to a point where suddenly my company does not outweigh the desire for more of what other girls can offer. Always.
I have vowed to myself that I will wait for one with which I will wait.
Who doesn’t look at me and imagine what he’d do if I weren’t so complicated and adamant about depriving him of something that “everyone’s doing”.
I am enough when I laugh at their jokes and sing them songs and hold their hand and take off the mask I hide behind.
But I only have to wait
And eventually they will want more from my mouth than laughter and song.
They want to hold more. They want me to take off more.
They usually mean no harm, they’re human after all. The desires of the mind are dangerously powerful.
I don’t blame them for not understanding, it isn’t something they’re accustomed to. The good ones tell me no means no and I know they would never push.
But I see it in their eyes when their pupils dilate and it is not because I am beautiful.
I hear it in their breath when they kiss me once and then kiss me twice and kiss me again and again and again and press further and deeper and I yearn to give them what I know they wish they were building towards.
I cherish my innocence but I fear what happens when they are told to stop.
The exasperated sigh of frustration, the collapse beside me in disappointment.
After all these years I still don’t know how to say it.
I’ve mastered the art of holding my breath while their hands wander and telling myself as long as I take nothing off it never happened.
I got a good one once.
He made me laugh and sang me songs and held me close.
But even still I know I let him down.
His racing heart and curious lips never asked for more, but I knew they would take it if only I allowed.
They all would take it.
If only I were fun.
If only I were easy.
If only they didn’t have to take matters into their own hands when I went home.

I hate having to find out how long they can last before I am no longer endearingly but enragingly pure.
It is always shorter than I wish.

I know there are many who want my heart.
But there are so few that want nothing more.
Nothing more than what I have to offer.
Nothing more than to wait.

- p. winter

You smile at me and, suddenly,
I find I understand
The little plan you must have just devised

To make me fall for all of you
You take me by the hand
And show me how love songs are improvised

- p. winter

One in the morning.
My "home away from home" is
Not home without you.

Two in the morning.
Our time zones are parallel.
My dusk is your dawn.

Three in the morning.
Jet lag induced writer's block.
Yet poetry flows.

Four in the morning.
I still hear your heart beating.
My dear, I miss you.

Five in the morning.
I should sleep but, instead, I
Pour out love letters.

Six in the morning.
So close yet so far, only
An ocean away.

- p. winter

The name itself is but euphony.
The woman is
No different.
With ringlets wild,
Faith of child,
Fingers delicate,
Eyes wise,
Her blushēd cheeks
Are watercoloured
Sunrise waking
Winter skies.
There is music in her laughter.
A new note struck
With every opening of her
Pillowed lips.
In times of sorrow,
Speak her name.
Find healing in loving
Julia.

- p. winter

You ask me why I flinch
Whenever you raise a hand.
Or why I retreat at the sound
Of your voice getting louder.
You tell me I'm too jumpy,
That I just need to learn to trust.
But the last time a hand and voice were raised,
My trust went out the window.

- p. winter

kiss me once again
sing to me
touch me
eagerly
grab me
i beg you
kiss me once again
pull me in
don’t speak
whisper
find me
take me home
kiss me once again

- p. winter

leave me once
shame on me
leave me twice
shame on me
leave me thrice
shame to think
i e’er believed
you wanted me

- p. winter

And oh, how sweet, the words you speak, they taste.
How soft they blow, how sure they flow; no haste.
An old eclipse, how slow, your lips -- they part.
So young, naive, quickly deceived, my heart.
How warm, your eyes, they hypnotize my soul.
And how I miss the touch, the kiss, you stole.
So sure was I that you'd be my first love.
But love's a thing we know nothing thereof.
Foolish of me to fall so deeply in.
How long I thought your smile was not a sin.
And oh, how used, how scared, confused, my trust.
Feelings so shy, that you deny, 'tween us.
How ruefully, our memories, they fade.
How bittersweet our love; like lemonade.

- p. winter