They've all gone
Introverts dream
I'm just sitting
With my eyes
Wide shut in the
Corner of this room
With my music
Blaring through
My speakers with
The wailing washing
Right through me


I am half beauty
And half beast
You deserve the best
Pieces of me, but
I was grown bent
Trying to reach the
Sun shining in
The far distance
But choked out
By all the weeds

I want to promise
I'll never hurt you
But I can't tell
You such cruel lies
I'm going to break
You apart without
Meaning to if
You let me stick
Around too long

Yet if you decide
To keep me anyway
I will clean your
Wounds made by
The world and I
Kiss them until
My lips crack and bleed
If you let me stay
I will make it worth
The times I am a
Destructive hurricane
By being your warm
Spring breeze


The music is me
I had to channel it
For so many years
Sometimes it feels
Like it's the only way
For me to understand
                                                    Myself

beware when you fall in love
with an artist
be it a painter, a singer, or poet

for the artist will
paint you
with strokes and hues
in shapes of every kind

sing about you
with heartbreak lyrics
and feelings which rhyme

write about you
with the simplest words
and a secret message she wants to say

beware of the artist,
and her love
one wrong move
and you're an artwork in her display

You see
A person only truly falls in love
Once in their life time
And once that time is used up
There is no more.
You can lie to yourself
And to others
But if you were truly in love with them
That love cannot be undone.
I am in love.
A love that won't go away
With my best friend.
I fell off
The bridge of love
And into the waters
Where he followed
But his love came with strings attached
A bungee
And he jumped back up
And left me sitting there in the waters
While he's up on the bridge
Calling me up there
While I'm wishing him down here
And I have no bungee.

People often use the term "home is where the heart is" as reference that home is a literal place. That you can touch it, feel it, live in it and it's physically there. But I just can't seem to wrap my mind around that. Because my heart belongs to a home that isn't there in a physical sense. My home is the way you say my name and draw circles on my lower back. My home is built and structured in between your arms and in the crook of your neck. I've never felt more at home then when we are skin to skin and I want to pull you even closer. No my home is not a building, my home is you and that's where my heart will always be.

We taught you big words
when you were little - acoutrement and ubiquitous.
I used to kiss you just above
your tiny nose whenever I buckled you in,
and you'd talk - from the back seat
to the front seat, from our house
all the way to wherever we were going, you'd talk.
At night you'd snuggle next to me,
and I'd tell you stories till
one of us fell asleep.
And although I didn't see
the teen in the boy,
I still see the little
boy in the teen, and
I still sometimes almost
reach for your hand as we walk.

don't leave me in
           the morning,
stay forever.
           you are my everything.
my world,
           my universe.