I will not repent
My daily sins
To an antiquated verse
Or bind myself
To a definition
I do not acknowledge
To be a sinner, as you say
To be the villain
Before I have my own story
To wear guilt and shame
As constant wardrobe
I don’t buy it
Give me my flaws,faults
And misdeeds
Tattoo them to my skin
I will build an epic origin tale
Layers upon my body
Until my soul bleeds
And the words from my mouth
Will be sonnets for misfits
Gathering into bonfires
My smirk, dancing sparks
And trouble, a forte
To be sinner, as you say
And plaster your prayers
As hollow blessings
To cure me
To iron out my wrinkles
Tuck me safely into a social norm
I don't buy it
Fray the edges
Pull myself off the frame
Not all butterflies will be pinned
Pluck the pins of expectations
Use those antiquated words
To set fire
To every criticism you used
To create this prison
Repent, you say
For being myself
And I will tell you
no

The birds speak of a kindred soul
One that basks in the afterglow
of a solemn moon lingering in the daylight

and you watch as nights go on
the way it changes phases
falling in love with the idea
of embracing the volatility of life

Have you ever thought about the qualities

that silence shares?

I haven’t, but I’d like to someday.

It reminds me of

Earth’s luxuries

How everything was created to show us

the signs of becoming

when Light runs its deepest course


Sitting with the pit of a fruit in my stomach

Looking to the space between

Knowing someday that you and I will be

under the same sky

Resplendence

To imagine the day when a soul finds itself  

in another

Merging into an embrace of Silk Silhouettes

Hands held tightly around their bodies

They just know.

Nothing ever comes to us without

accepting the space exactly the way it is

Loving it and all the beauty it allows

Eternity

an ever growing thing

Grateful for such moments

Infinite patience

A tiny ladybug

painted peacefully

on its stem

A higher power

believing it has you

to rely on..

Your clock now rests on my desk,
And each tick and tock simulates the beating of your heart,
A heart which now rests in the earth —
The earth from which it came from
And of which it has now returned to.
Your clock now ticks for you,
No longer with you.

A hug is a huge thing,
a something that can envelop,
can cause me to well up,
can burst through my well built up
defences and knock down fences
that have stood the tests
of time-honoured conventions,
that respected my distance
and even admired my stiff upper prevention
of anything like a display of affection.

A hug is a long held committing,
a massive undertaking
that leaves a long-lasting indentation
of serious loving.

A hug is a huge thing.
We need a hug.