(Sitting on Santa's lap)

Me: "I want a dragon"
Santa: "Nope, too dangerous"
Me: "Ok, then I want a boyfriend"
Santa: "What color dragon?"

Today I put on that perfume
And it hit me
With a memory forgotten;
Sunken at the bottom of the almost empty bottle.
“Mhm, wow you smell so good. What perfume is that?” You had asked.
I’d been over the moon waxing outside. You had tickled my insides.
So when I’d spritzed that on my neck and inhaled that scent and that memory…
I was glad.
Glad that the bottle was finished.
Glad that there was nothing left to remind me of that moment,
Glad that as I tossed the bottle into the trash, I had, in turn, trashed the memory.
The memory sunken at the bottom of that perfume bottle.

Maybe the sand loved the waves
because everytime they left,
they always cam eback.

What color is your rain,does it ever leave a stain,do you ever smile and dance in life's puddle left to chance,does it ever sooth your soul,when the wind begins to blow,does the lightning spark your eyes, in the thunder riddled skies,as you wash away the past,in a rainbow colored blast,of lights across a dream,as far fetched as it may seem,do you welcome on the storm,does it make your heart feel warm,perhaps you run and hide,rapped in dark and bitter pride,afraid of what's to come,a challenge still for some,just let go and be set free,the next time you get to see,the clouds about to drop,what even time itself can't stop,let your worries,grief and pain,feel all the colors of the rain.......

When I see
a forget-me-not
it makes me think

the petals
fall
the leaves
turn brown

but
my love
will never fade

yours did.

thank god i can’t write good poetry
the best poetry comes from pain and hurt if you ask me
so although i can’t write like i used to
at least it means i’m doing alright