are all these
words
said for
you

you are the moon
shining valiantly to illuminate
the dark, starry sky

you are the wind
that brushes through my hair
and catches a hold of
my hand

you are the fleeting smile
I caught
on someone hurting
but alive

you are strength
and loving kindness when
I could not think anymore

your existence
is exciting; you
matter

and every word
of yours
is someone's
lovely poetry

are all these
words
said for
you

They say to love
you must first love yourself
for without that you
have no foundation to build.

Which is to say my love is sacrilegious
for the hollow within me
has always remained hollow
but I have not stopped loving.

I have loved the misty rivers
on the cool mornings before the sun.
I have loved the turning of pages
and things laying upon them.

And for what is worth I loved her
even if it was only for a moment,
even if it was a mistake,
don’t you dare call it phantom.

My love is a blanket even if
I have not yet learned
how to fold myself in it
It is still real.

I still bathe it in the river
I still call it mine even though
I do not consume its fruits,
its flesh is not plastic.

One day I may fill what is mine to fill,
but til then I will not stop
with what you call “unholy loving”
because it is all I know how to do.

I run into the melody.

the crimson sounds hug me.

i ever struck a still place.

it was a singing rose.

my birthday is in one week.
i don’t care about my birthday.
i don’t want people focused on me.
i just wanna drink my *** and light up.
i don’t want anything.
i don’t want people to remember me.
i just wanna vanish.
i don't know if i can vanish if people care about me.
i don't know if i can escape if i'm gonna hurt them.
i’m just glad that i’m getting closer to the day where i have permission.

Never love someone more than you love yourself, and you will never be made a fool of.

Never trust completely, and you can never be truly hurt.

Thinking the worst of people is dreary work, but always keeping a foot out is safe.

It is 4 a.m. in the morning,
At peculiar little moments,
For no exact reason,
Sometimes I absorb a moment best that I can
And ask myself,
Will I ever remember this?
I usually never do,
The only memory I have of those moments
Is asking myself if I will remember
Maybe this is why I write,
So even if daily life makes me forget,
Capturing in detail the moments most significant to me
Will make them immune to the natural decay of memory

So, now,
I wonder
If the pitter patter of this night's summer rain
Will stay as a happy memory in my brain,
Or by tomorrow, wash away
There is no way to know
I just have to feel this moment,
And let everything go...
Let everything flow~

It's August now
I think of how
Everything goes too quickly,
Swiftly,
Like soft sand running through my fingers,
Sand dollars, Maine
First thinking of sand,
But now I'm a child again,
Visiting Maine
With my parents
The sea smells fresh,
Lobster,
Maine is known for it's lobster
You dip lobster in butter,
Because that's how it's eaten, Violet
I bought a souvenir for my Mother
Took a boat to see the whales
But they decided not to show up
I remember seeing a cute boy on the boat,
I imagined what it would be like if he was my boyfriend,
I was probably eight
Everything in childhood
Could never have prepared me for
Being a teenager
And becoming an adult
Childhood was so, so
Innocent
I knew of pain,
But I hadn't yet been wrecked by pain,
I was merely an observer at that point,
But things change when you take pain personally,
But pain is not personal
So, ultimately, it's our choice to either remain in the ruins of the wreckage, wallowing over our losses,
Or pick ourselves up, glean the lessons and rebuild our life,
Integrating both the pain and joy of our life within the new building blocks

So, as this summer rain falls
As it has before,
For over twenty years,
As long as I've lived
I let this time pass with ease
I ask myself if I will remember,
And I probably won't
But what's most important is that I love to my fullest capacity
Within every single forgettable moment.

there is
a           mess
about her,

fluttering
towards  open

    space.


writhing

below pale
skin,

refusing to sit

so structurally,
so secured

in flesh.


wildly
           bending
and      swelling,


becoming

the
           savage


she so calmly
swears

isn’t there.











*-MJS