Softness surrounds her eyes

accentuating a look of wisdom.

Contentment tempers her voice.

A voice that flows to greet one 


like a mellow brook 


sparkling in the sunrise.

Her words traced to paper

speak of a true heart

that pumps compassion.

Her poetic refrains spill forth

like lava flowing on a rock.

Yet her steps are gentle on the earth

as though each journey is

a walking meditation.

Observing is an obsession

that ignites each draft she writes.

What if she changed? What if

she lived with the boldness

of her writing and the zest of her poems,

would her words become tempered

and her rhymes fall hollow on the page?

red bloomed across my skin,
you told us you were riddled with sin.
my nails dug into the hide,
you wouldnt let down your pride.
my hands furiously shook,
you couldnt admit you were a crook.

tears gathered in my eyes,
you swore this time you werent high.
you said dont leave me in jail,
it's the same as ****** hell.
your face was gaunt,
but i spoke naught.

i am not sorry.

They say red roses symbolize love,
and that every rose has it thorns
But has it ever occurred to you
that red roses -
despite their beauty -
Can hurt you?

A silence with you
Is not
a silence

But a moment rich
with peace

Wherever he walks,
droplets of chemical toxins are emitted
from the soles of his shoes.
Hansel and Gretel.
I follow his trail of breadcrumbs
like it is all I have to hold on to.
A winding, infinite path of poison.
I have been exposed to too much radiation-
to take one more step is to seal my fate.
But I am lost, and so all I can do is
wander.

If monogamy is it’s own form of sickness
If those in ‘love’ are those in illness 

If those moving on are those in stillness 

If the calm before the storm is really
what you should prepare for