If she is not beautiful,
Nothing is,

If her eyes are not deep,
Than the ocean is a puddle,

If her kiss is not a blessing,
There is no magic in anything else,

If her taste is no wine,
Than no drug will entrance me.

What is this thing called poetry?
Is it words on paper,
Lined up nicely,
Rhymes assembled tightly?
Or is it a little deeper than that,
Is poetry a feeling?
A little flutter in your heart,
An echo in the fabric of your soul.
Maybe it's a small candle spark,
Flitting in the dark,
As you sleep peacefully.
So what is this thing we call poetry?

She moves fast like a city
full of names, things to do,
and places to be.
No matter how fast she moves,
there is always a spot for you.

Regardless of where you go,
not every woman, not every city,
is the same.

She highlights her personality,
the buildings of her priorities,
Her personalities,
like dominos
uncovered and placed strategically.

The way she was raised,
the not so pretty parts,
Behind the well known parts
of her,
not necessarily put away.
But still, there is a place for you.
Whether it's a quiet night in,
or an event organized
to get to know each other better,
the margins of her heart beat for you
Between the counties.

Although she moves fast,
and one day with her varies from the next,
she's not afraid to let you know that she's busy.
Once she handles all of her business,
be ready to catch up on all that missed time.

But don't forget
she doesn't just find the time
to call or text.
She shows up.
You too are a part of her world

Blackened
In shadows deep, where silence reigns, A journey marked by unseen chains.
Through corridors of night we tread, Seeking solace in the dread.
The echoes linger, cold and stark, In every heart, a lasting mark. To depths unknown, we cast our gaze, In twilight's grip, we lose our ways.
Enticed by voids, we break the ties, In newfound space, where darkness lies.
With every step, a story traced, In haste we move, yet time erased.

Clouds form and fill the sky
Everything turns gray.
Still, there is no you.
You don't say sorry.
You don't say anything.

I walk outside,
Expecting to see you
At the very least, hear you
Rumble closer.

The sky is just as stubborn,
Refusing to move.
Here I am, outside
Head tilted back,
Mouth open, waiting for you.

Picturing your voice
Rumbling in the distance.
You don't say that you're sorry.
The rain still hasn't come

I think I cut too deep
Look at that cut on me
It hasn’t healed for fourteen days
It won’t never go away
Maybe they’ll finally notice
How I’m far past my lowest
Look into the open wound
Staring back with eyes of stound
Watch it drip honey
And gush out sounds of
A time when I was funny
And not the time now where I am but a dove

The easy thing would be to tell you
that he wasn’t special,
that there are plenty of fish in the sea,
that time heals everything.
Half-truths,
empty phrases.

But if you want honesty,
I know how hard it is to have your heart broken.
When you gave everything,
more than you could afford to lose.

When you gave so much,
you almost lost yourself.
I tell you this because I’ve been there,
where the soul bleeds without end,

Where the days turn gray
just by wondering
what you did wrong
to make him leave.
Where you waited for that call,
that voice saying he wanted to talk,
that you still deserved to walk together,
side by side.

But now, I want to tell you,
life goes on,
even with a broken heart.
You’ll hear songs that tell your story,
but one day, it will just be a story forgotten.

One day, you’ll say his name without pain,
but with gratitude.
Because he made you stronger
than you already were.

Because life and destiny
will lead you to real love.

But today,
conquer yourself with the same passion.
Give yourself
all the love you were ready to give.
Take yourself to dinner,
dress up,
buy yourself gifts.

Love yourself like no one ever has.
Want yourself like no one ever did.
Desire yourself like no one ever will.

Are you familiar with the phrase, "Looks like your mom dressed you?"
That’s what I see when I look at you
Not because of the clothes, but because of the care.
And that’s what makes me love you the most.

I show it in how much I care.
I offer to buy you lunch when I know you’ve had a long day.
And still, you have the energy to talk to me the way you do
The way you make me feel like I am family.

Your words are a comfort you don’t realize I need.
And while there’s nothing wrong with Mom,
Babe, your dad raised you right.
He taught you that the world is tough
That to get a single thing you want,
You have to go through so much.
And still, you tell yourself that everything is going to be okay.
I know because I live it, and it’s easy to see.
Babe, you carry your father’s strength.

You love me protectively.
You make space for me.
You save room for me.
It’s rare to find a woman like you.
Every time you leave,
I’m already waiting to see your face again.

I love the way you were raised