A butterfly on
A petal; a dew on a leaf;
A word on a paper!

You laid with your arm behind my head
and your hand on the small of my back
so you could catch the pieces if it broke
- *you were still there when I woke

Breathe,
              they told me.

But how am I supposed to breathe when my lungs are filled with so much hate; my mouth with so many unspoken words?

                                                I *can't breathe.

Because everytime I do, my heart aches a little more, my eyes fill up with tears that I didn't want to spill anymore.

- Be strong,
                  they said.

The problem is,
                         I can't.
Because nothing in my life makes sense anymore.

I don't know.
                     I don't know.
                                         I don't know.

Down a peaceful, quiet lane
The two-story farmhouse awaits
Bathed in evening hues
Of rich lavenders, pinks,
And dusty apricot
The lilac scented breezes blow
Whispering stories of summer
Let me dance in pastures
Of buttercups and wild daisies
Where horses graze contentedly
And Virginia bluebells sway
Where time becomes stuck
And lets me live this golden moment
Just once more

**~Marian~

Most all people are beautiful
Their personalities are wonderful
Most all people just want to be love and be loved

There are many people on this earth
About 7 billion I think

Overall though
It is a primitive race
This human race

We still don't use natural resources wisely
And there are still corrupt governments
This human race still can't live in peace

There will always be those evil people unfortunately
At the heads of government
Or in positions of power
That make life miserable for others

I guess some things never change

Just do your best
To treat others with respect
Remember your fellow man and woman
How they struggle like you have
Showing loving compassion to them

i would write you
a love letter
but i don’t know how
maybe i could start
with something cliché,
like ‘Dear you,’
and then I’d talk about
how your eyes gather sunlight
in the day
and shine golden
at night
but i was never
good with words

or maybe i could make you
a mixtape
and leave it
on your front door
there aren’t enough songs
about tuesday afternoons
and cuddles on the
kitchen floor
to get things
off the ground

so let me write you
a poem instead
a poem that rhymes
and the taste of
your strawberry lip gloss
the sound of
your name
but it wouldn’t make sense
anyway,
some are artists
( not me )
and some people
are art themselves
and my favorite poem
is you