Fear is a language all on its own.
Although broken, we understand soon
as we hear it.
No matter how well spoken
No matter how intuitive or savvy
We sabotage ourselves well after the
moment has passed.
I stepped outside of myself when I met
you.
Bilingual & open,
No matter how far you move or I.
I'll always remember you
I've memorized you in my heart
Where fear does not exist

oh dear, you've been through fires and waters this year
scarred, scared, burned and drowned in blue
tired but alive with the beige in your skin turning different hues
you've come very far, didn't you?

we all did the clichés
we laughed, loved, cried, got mad, been forgiven
and we smiled
as we travel young and lost-ly in this fond thing we call life

and once in every often while
we all ache for a home,
thank goodness I found you

one of my human homes
one of the truests I've known
whose kindness never fail to make someone's
and your heart of gold too

so with this, I remind you again that you need not to walk alone
because heart, you'll never have to
as long as you never let it slip from your mind
that with all the stars combined, we'll love you in every triumph and trying time.

Rather than a whole cake,
a small slice & black coffee would be nice.
There is top tier enjoyment --
from the limitation, balance, & appreciation.
Sure,
You might not have it all,
but you can savor every bite.
You might sip the drink’s bitterness,
so you can cherish the sweetness of cake
as if the first time each time.
To be grateful & contented— it’s just lovely.

Beauty, fierce as desire, is perched
on the limits of longing –
There is an upward soaring
where simple delight turns
to sunlit brilliance.

Beauty is grasped
by a mind that fabricates
the abstract but appreciates
the real.

There is wonder
in the beauty of
the winds, woods
and water that glow
on the edge of earth.

Beauty is portrayed
in the smooth, smiling
contenance of youth,
the delicate alliance
of dark soil and milky sky
and seasons that turn
to golden ages, widening
to wilderness, clear and
unexplored, filling pages
of solitude with poetry.

Beauty is being held
in the arms of dawn,
knowing that dusk’s
splendid sunset is
not far away.

I wasn't crying for you,
regardless of what your eyes told you.
I was crying for me
on that mildew night
when you decreed
we could no longer be.
salty drops of relief,
instead of disbelief.
hands in head to honor
the future I can now possess
as you let go of me
and I can fall further
into the beauty that is myself,
& honor the rose which you never
knew how to stop and smell.