and I hope catching a glimpse of what you can't have is worth losing what you already do.

strange how a very real moment
later becomes a less tangible memory

time passes and our memory fails us
(what color shirt was he wearing?)

tiny little moments become representatives
for longer spans of time

a phase, or an age
comprised of only a handful of images,
plus the smell of burning candles and vanilla frosting
always plants you right in the middle of your ninth birthday party

life has seasons
and I am not a flower
I am a tree
with changing colors
shedding it's leaves

I tried to bury the hurt
deep, deep inside.
But it returns to haunt me,
because I buried it alive.

I wish I could put
these moments in a jar
and whenever I am lonely
home would never be too far.

He was absolutely everything,
and that was far too much.

Your pain keeps you company.
You let your demons come out to play.
You wear your anger as a coat of armor.
And then wonder why everyone runs away.

she burned every bridge
because the heat from the fire kept her warm
and the danger of the flames were better than emptiness

she burned every bridge
and sank every ship
before she realized she was on an island
alone.

If I pulled up a chair,
could I sit with myself?

Septembers remind us
that change, while inevitable
is always beautiful.
That each season of life
brings different weather.
The flowers don't have to
be blooming year round
for our surroundings
to be full of color.
Transformation
does not have to be
growth to be necessary.

a strong silent power,
rising steady and certain.
putting in the honest work,
day in and day out.
our feminine nature
is the kind of persistent presence
that withstands, and outlasts
life's constant challenges.
eternally exceeding expectations,
we overcome, we succeed,
we grow.

the soul inside of me
is growing far too big
for my body

I cannot explain
the radiating darkness
this tiny frame holds onto...
Like a black hole, small and dense
consuming all light surrounding.

A collapsing sun
once brilliant enough
to light up a solar system
now disappears upon
the event horizon.

in waking life we are well fabricated lies,
personas perfectly tailored to the world's expectations.
it is when we sleep that we know our true selves;
our innermost fears and desires, the intricate complexities
of our daily lives woven into an elaborate metaphor
left for us to decipher. these cinematic masterpieces of the mind
often leave us with more questions than answers.
but every now and then, the subconscious realm leaves us a crystal clear message impossible to ignore.

twice now I've kissed you
deep within my dreams
and in that world it feels so real
but it's not all what it seems
I will replay those moments
in fear that they will fade
I will keep them like memories
that my heart has made

our lips will never meet
nor our fingers intertwine
and so bless my dreams
for indulging what's not mine

tell me why I dream of you
is it because at that same moment
you are dreaming of me too?
is it because energy doesn't lie?
whatever was between us
just doesn't want to die

I lit myself on fire
burned my life to the ground
and overnight it vanished
without making a sound.

There are countless stories
living, breathing in my bones
begging to be freed,
piercing the unknown.
Each day conjures a tale
that plays out within my mind,
a world that seems so real to me,
who knows what I may find.
My subconscious divided
between this world and my own;
A thousand lives have settled
and made myself their home.

a heart is wild
a beating, throbbing beast
held prisoner by the ribcage
hardly contained
within this bony enclosure
ready to leap
right out of my chest
and consume you

poetry runs like blood through my veins
words strung together to emote beauty
or pain, a beautiful necklace wrapped
tightly around my throat, the things
I'm dying to say dripping from
the tip of my tongue. Honey or poison,
both sticking to my gritted teeth,
unable to escape and create
the beautiful poetry
bleeding on the page

I woke up
a year ago today
innocent
unknowing
And went to bed
broken and heavy as stone.
They say that when
you lose someone
that day is forever
the end of your old life
and the beginning of the new one,
the life without.
Each day learning
how to cope with
the gaping hole
that was once filled with her.

though you and I
have yet to travel
very far on Earth
through the night sky
I’ve lost count
of all the stars traversed

my chest heaves
from poor health
or heartache
it’s hard to say
what I do know
is the weight
of your absence
feels heavier today

I once had
a beautiful voice
and you asked me
why I no longer sing.
I turned to you
and quietly replied
"because I was a bird,
and you clipped my wings."

i may grow
from a crack in the concrete
but i still grow

as difficult as it may be
i will not let the weight
prevent me from blooming

the pain doesn't go away
it only grows deeper
becomes buried
and from time to time
resurfaces, often when
you least expect it
when you're washing dishes
or driving home
your thoughts wander
to hidden memories
and before you know it
your eyes fill with tears
you try to wipe them away
and push these thoughts aside
but why would you want to forget
something that you care so deeply for?

A heavy hand, a heavier heart
full of every burden one can carry.
Made of earth, and stone, and stars
falling from the heavens, landing
with feet planted firmly in the ground.

Almost is a word often used
with negative connotation
Synonymous with
nigh
nearly
not quite
When the thing you strive for
is just barely out of reach.

"He almost caught the train"
"She almost fell in love"

In this case, it's different.
What I would give
for an almost right now...
"It was almost too late"
"She almost didn't make it"
"We almost lost you"

I've grown a new layer of skin
in just less than two months
I now have an exterior shell
protecting me from reminders
of the pain that lies underneath
protecting others from the discomfort
of witnessing a mental breakdown
Now it's harder to feel
and when a crack begins to spread
I'm quick to patch it up
because it's easier to swallow my words
than to speak them through tears.

Time is wicked
I don't understand
there is either not enough
or too much
and today too much
time has passed
since I last saw you
hugged you
stood in the same room as you
and now without notice
you're gone
just like the time
that has passed
and we can never get back.

such a mixed up,
messed up soul
murky eyes full
of hearts she stole
with empty hands
she gives her all
seeking the climb
so she feels the fall

No matter the expression
across my lonely face
know that underneath
I feel out of place.
There's an ocean of lava
crashing against my shell
boiling up inside
this small version of hell
caught within my lungs
so I can hardly breathe
afraid if any leaks
you'll turn around and leave.

I was made from the same batch
and everyone was cut into cookies
fun shapes, all different sizes
and the leftover pieces
took no shape at all
and so I didn't get to join them
in their journey to become
what they truly are.

constant contradictions
harsh words with a gentle kiss
cold eyes with a playful touch
a short fuse with tender love
always in defense mode
ready to attack, to attach
to a tone or a word misspoken
and my skin is thin
and my heart easily broken
yet I build makeshift armor
and pretend to be a hero
while you build and destroy walls
and you swear that you
love, love, love me

If I could find the words to speak
and say them without getting weak,
it's all right there inside my head
thoughts just jumbled up instead.
Give me a chance to write them down
and I'll describe my world without a sound.

We are but a breath
in the lungs of the universe,
a beat in the heart of life,
a blink in the eyes of our ancestors,
a shooting star in the darkness of night.

You opened a door
I wanted to keep shut
and now the things
I feared behind it
run loose and wild
dark thoughts take hold
multiplying, spreading
a disease I cannot cure
This darkness engulfs me
and your hand is just
barely out of reach

They said my anger
was cold and distant
like a far reaching planet
I didn't understand
until I felt the heat
bubbling underneath
I felt it and I left it
and as time passed
the lava flow within
hardened into rock
cool, dark, volcanic rock
A permanent landmark
quietly intimidating
those who dare come close

On occasion you can find me
lost in lonesome corridors
cleaning bones out of closets
wandering down winding hallways
with faint and foggy memories lining their walls.
Amongst boarded up, locked doors,
few remain open, awaiting guests
in the dusty space I have yet revisit.
I wonder how I wound up in this haunted home...
My home in fact, though I often don't recognize it

do you know
that strange, inexplicable feeling?
the one where you did nothing wrong
yet you are filled with guilt?
or the one where you came back
after having the time of your life
and now everything feels
sad and lonely?
like our soul is trying to tell us something
that our logic hasn't quite figured out yet.
pay attention to that little feeling,
that little voice inside you,
that's always there but it never shouts
it is always soft and quiet, gently nudging
kindly reminding us of our untapped emotions,
if we learn to feel them deeply
we can begin to know ourselves.

Saying goodbye to Holly
the best neighbor two kids trying
to move up in the world could have.

goodbye to four years
in the same house I spent
so much time in as a kid,
learning what life is
and what mistakes are.

goodbye to a neighborhood
I watched turn fear into love,
even though I still had
to lock my doors at night.

goodbye to the apartment
I came home to after
a full day of classes,
a long shift at the bar,
a session in the painting studio.

goodbye to a house
that belonged in it's place
since it was built over a century ago.

goodbye to a home
the home that comforted me
as I faced the toughest part of growing up
the home that nearly drove us apart
but in reality it had kept us together.

a black hole has a gravitational pull
so strong, nothing can escape
the day your mother gave up on you
was the day half of your heart collapsed
sending yourself into a supernova
for a decade or so,
devouring everything in your path
destroying everything you couldn't have
becoming a stellar black hole yourself
and I was a light, a star to guide you home
the gravity that pulled me in
will now consume me
disappearing on the event horizon

You say she's impure
because all the hands that have touched her
had impure thoughts about her,
and they did not love her.
She was only trying
to find herself in another person;
She was only trying
to fill the unnameable void within her.
She is as pure
as the stardust she's made of,
as the love in her heart
that she still manages to carry,
as the hunger that drives her
and keeps her up at night.

You think she's damaged goods
that you can get at discount,
but she's worth more than you could ever know.
She's a broken beauty with imperfections
and you certainly cannot afford her.

There was always something between them
even if later they might say other wise.
From day one their souls forged a connection
and for years they would wander in and out
of each others lives, always disrupting
each time leaving a larger hole.
The last time they spoke, she severed ties
but to cut him out was to cut out a piece of herself
a large portion of her heart, and rib cage
her left shoulder and her trust in men.
He on the other hand, was left with no heart
because she had stolen it six years ago
and he never even noticed it was gone.

I write novels in my head before I fall asleep
I'm sick of making promises I never meant to keep
I always climb the mountains that are far too steep
I'm in over my head, I'm in way too deep

I can paint my story
all colors, shapes, and hues
with sunny yellows, bleeding reds,
and most royal of the blues
These shades won't need explanation
each one speaking on it's own
Just watch my story unfold
and see how much I've grown.

I won't sit down
I won't shut up
To be quite honest
I'm fed up.
I have a voice,
I will be heard
And when I speak,
you'll wait your turn.
I may be small,
but my thoughts are loud.
My words have power,
of that I'm proud.

two heavy feet
standing square
upon my chest
I can't breathe
I can't scream
that's what it's like
to be a doormat
to be a set of stairs
always helping
someone else
get to where they need to be
Never thought about
what was in it for me

I have a garden growing
entangled in my chest
the earth is overflowing
making quite a mess
pushing daisies from my ribcage
roses blooming in my heart
my lungs are filled with ivy
so I don't fall apart
each day the roots grow deeper
filling in the holes
I have a garden growing
deep within my soul.