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

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.

I wear your heart
on my heart
and your pain
also belongs to me.
When you begin to cry,
look up at me
and I too will have tears
staining my cheeks.
When life feels too heavy
please know I will be there
to lift you up if you fall.

And when a smile
creeps across your face
and laughter escapes your lips,
you better believe
I'm wearing a grin to match.

There is a vast depth within me,
strange and inexplicable
even to myself...
No words exist to explain
the truths that lie there.
Only pigment and brush
intuitively composed
on blank canvas
by hands none other than my own.

Old and stained,
ragged and worn,
with holes and even
unraveled and torn.
Love is like your favorite sweater,
well used and seen all kinds of weather.
After a few years
and several loose threads,
there may be holes that need mending.
Don't get too worried my dear,
as long as the time that you're spending
is carefully piecing the threads back together.
Love is like your favorite sweater.

Never had a chance to hold
to be held, or to be told
Never had a chance to say
and soon you will be far away
All the things I'll never know
I must find a way to let them go

quiet
restless
stirred by words
that poke between ribs
filled to the brim
with resentment
what does happiness taste like?

is it sweet?
or is it bitter, like a low realization
that you get what you pay for
time spent
money wasted

the present reality
or the parallel universe
where everything you wanted
exists

who am i?

Very small and hardly seen
Fens are where you've always been
seeking sedges for you to eat
lay eggs, feed, metamorphosis, repeat.
Without care and conservation,
we will destroy fen feeding and breeding stations
and so we also lose the few
Mitchell's Satyr butterflies too

I looked upon the night at my family of stars
My brothers and sisters burning bright
illuminating a dark sky with their beauty
My mother and father who brought me here
a twinkle in their ancient eyes
from long ago, taking form over centuries of history
All of my family's universal energy
flowing together for their descendant, me
to have an opportunity to breathe
to exist for a fleeting moment
in the greater eternal scheme

I'm drowning
in a mass of asphalt
blinking lights and broken buildings
Monotone voices, mindless drivers
woken up only by perceived interference
in their trip from point A to point B
The trip they make everyday
a life that rips their cares away
one by one we all fall down
underneath the weight of expectation, obligation
pushed and squeezed into a tight little box
I won't let this be me
I won't let you take every last shred of hope within me
I may be sad, I may be angry
but I will not become the mindless robot
that has multiplied within the bounds of this city
This city cannot take me
It will not eat me alive

Perfection is overrated,
we use this word all the time
to describe people, things, moments
but this description is inaccurate
We all know nothing in this world
is perfect in every way
Eliminate this word from your vocabulary
Replace it with: real, beautiful, honest, true
You don't want to be perfect
You want to be wonderful, beautiful, mistake making YOU.

The anticipation of spring's arrival
knowing that it seems far but is closer than we think
That's what makes winter beautiful
We see everything die, the cold settles in and overstays its welcome
We begin thinking it will stay winter forever
and then the sun thaws out,
a little green plant pushes it's way out of the earth
and it says, "it's not the end, it's a new beginning."

I want a night with you, alone
no devices or distractions
full attention, nothing to preoccupy our minds,
our hearts entirely focused
just you and me
slow dancing in the dark.

she never wanted to say
"these are your flaws."
she had always preferred
"but these are your features!"
and she never quite understood
why the people we're closest to
are the most critical creatures.

as of late my dreams disturbed
by things unseen and things unheard
in waking life fears are suppressed
but as I sleep they all undress

There is a quiet, heavy feeling in the air.
A tension between us loaded with distrust and anger, selfishness and disappointment.
I begin to wonder if you feel it too...
the space between us growing wider.
Do you wonder if it's over? Or do you know that it's over, but are afraid to let go?
It's ok if you are, because I am too. I'm afraid.

She’s not the only one, she knows there’s others out there
People like her
who have the ability to appear,
To come out of the woodwork, waiting just below the surface
for the perfect moment to
attack, to attach, get what they need…
While everyone else goes around calling them monsters,
so they live that way, it becomes a game.

Could you be a vehicle?
To take me from once in the past, to right here
right now.
A vehicle,
to take me on an adventure
waking me up, making me feel alive.
Stir the soul within me, who has been sleeping
restlessly, at least…
Would you be the vehicle,
that transports me away from earth?
Because I’m tired of being grounded.
I want to live in the sky, with the stars
And look for miles, and see it all

She shook her box of puzzle pieces and said,
“There’s some missing. But I still put it together sometimes,
And pretend that it’s still all there.”

It sparked my interest
caught my eye
the glittering deception
of a living lie
frozen and captured
where the light shone far too bright
and blinded me
looking back, it was brief
everything I thought he wasn’t
has caused me so much grief

It’s a strange feeling.
I can prove that heartbreak is a physical condition,
just let me tell you
that everyday I wake up with a
heavy feeling in my chest
and I’ve begun to realize that it’s my heart
frozen over from your cold words. Your icy hands
have gripped around what was left of
my love, taking it so deceivingly
destroying it so effortlessly
leaving me so empty.