sweetest girl
my greatest joy is
watching your
imagination grow
I'm honored to
be a spectator to
how it unfolds

even when it frightens you
because that unfortunately
is the cost of creativity

but don't try to stop it
that will only weigh down
your effervescent spirit
that would only mix your
true colors to ashy grey

I'll hold your hand
walk you through
the gravel and sand
and remind you to
appreciate the grand

your wonder
delights me
I can't wait
to see how you
surprise me

I find it hard to write these days because I've found that lately, I feel little to no pain.
When I was a shell of a girl, the words flowed so much better from my fingertips.
Now, they come like water from a hose when someone's stepping on it.
I know I should be grateful for my fortune, when all I've known before is hurt, but my newfound joy has ****** my creativity dry.
I guess that this is why I subconsciously try to sabotage my own happiness.
I want to feel pain so I can write again.
I want beautiful words to reflect my lack of self esteem and fear of intimacy.
I want metaphors to bring to life my need to be a starving and broken artist.
The one they romanticise.
The one who makes post traumatic stress disorder look like modern art
Oil on canvas
Scratches on skin from me wanting to shred the spaces where he touched me.
A name of a baby I never had
The apology or closure I'll never receive.
Is that what the people want to read?
Because my happiness just isn't interesting enough

( reply to Sappho )*

I took my guitar to the sea and said:
'Come now heaven, these fingers bled,
Wrangle and rain for thoughts you deign
And all the listeners dumb shall proclaim,
Strings are merely— vibrations of the soul
And soul is merely one mirror to the gods,
Take my dying art and throw it— to wind
Hear my song, strung, sept to your kin.'

I've gotta get you out my heart in time for spring
I Know I said that I've moved on but I've just been faking to make it honestly
Its a mess in here, shattered pieces everywhere that needs to get cleaned
Unwanted memories cover these walls of you and me
Causing more bad than good feelings from what used to be
I've been lying and taking my sweet time with reodering everything...
So many memories that need to go, to keep a healthy soul but it's so hard when the heart just won't let go, I think I'm turning cold...
It's not that I want to because I want to be ready for when love comes around again
It's just that I thought you and I would always remain the best of friends
It's such a strange thing, these feelings of you I've been hoarding, leaving no room for something new
and spring is right around the corner so I've got to rid myself of you
It's not something I want to do but it something I have to
Though I've already lost you I don't want to lose my mind too
I've gotta get you out my heart in time for spring...

sometimes my words can hit so instantly
that just the way that  they flow from me
powered by imagination is the best to be
its at my fingertips and its my magic key
I put my heart and soul in my creativity
making masterpieces throughout my poetry

I sit down in tweak town
To jot down a new noun,
A nice verb, a poetic sound,
But all that comes out
Is blah blahs, and doubt.
There’s not enough coffee,
To help satisfy me,
As long as I compare myself,
To everybody else.

So here in caffeine city,
The poetry is witty.
Every verse excites me.
Ever line invites me,
To be better.
Speed is my muse,
As long as I let her.

A nicotine lozenge,
Four milligram a piece,
Helps me stay awake,
Until, I am allowed to sleep;
Helps me to stay alert,
Helps me write this verse,
But in the end
The zzzz will hit me worse.
I guess, I should have just gone to bed
Instead.

Be Creative, be wild, be limitless - Imagine ...
explore the uncharted
~the less road travelled
~close your eyes open your soul to the majestic fantasy land -
and as the divided nature of wonders collided
~breath the air and be free