The strings
the way I pluck it
gives extra strength
to my soul.
The notes
I try to read
drives my thirst
spirit.
The lyrics
I write in a paper
expresses every single
emotion.
The music
I hear and I make
mends shattered
feeling.

But

The passion
I have
and truly love
seems fading.
The comparison
I get from others
is breaking every
notes.
The people
who are showing that
I am no good
made my paper empty.
Discouragement
scrapes the willing
and hoping
heart.

*-Steph Dionisio, July 26, 2015

From here on out
We'll go our own way
All my hopes
Have just flown away
You and I
But no togetherness
Two separate hearts
Not in unison
Drumming alone
Heart beat consistent
But won't stay true
Till I see you again

But you could live without me, right?

You've done an excellent job of proving it so far, love.

Once I'm yours, everything stops.
Doubt brushes up my spine, the ghost of every romance gone wrong.
The missteps and mistakes that broke the spell, or simply chased away what was already dead and gone from our hearts.

How can I ever know what swirls behind your eyes and moves beneath your skin, if you're never inclined to show me or tell me of your secret way?

I lie in bed at night and wonder if you find me beautiful, or worthwhile to you...

You read my poetry with stone lips and brittle eyes.

You seek not the light that stirs within me. I know only that light. You seem now to be nothing but a moth, who's attention I'd held for a tentative breath.

A breath that was ****** into the grand hurricane of life itself, born to be nothing more than a quiet whisper on a dark, still night when I'm in some far away place, alone.

It was dissipated on the cold northern winds, scattered on freshly fallen snow in some forgotten place you and I have lost the map to.

A million tiny pinpricks
the brightness of the sun
they would blind you
if you looked right at them.

A thousand earsplitting whispers
wishing you well,
pushing you on
they would deafen you
if you hadn't already stopped hearing them.

A sea of faces
fades into black before the horizon
if you didn't know not to
acknowledge them,
you might.

Someday,
years from now I can guarantee
those million spotlights
will blind you

those thousand voices
will drown out your own

that sea of faces will look back
Confused(?)
Disgusted(?)
or worse

disinterested

Fifteen minutes is up.

it was a winter kind of love,

the kind that spoke with eyes, actions and bodies.
because the chill and cold didn't matter when limbs became tangled.
neither did words. they weren't enough.
why did one have to say, "I love you,"
when it could be spoken through fingers on the spine and lips on the collarbone?
it was the need for presence.
for keeping the hands from getting numb, and making the cheeks warm.
because there's no such thing as too close when it was this cold.

it was a winter kind of love,
the kind that melted like the snow.

community.
it’s what i strive for.
community..
what there is now
is not what i fight for.
i never thought that visibility
would mean so much to us
that it would drive us away from
the cause we suffer to love.

we suffer to love
bc rewards dont mean a thing
not until our freedom is won
until all equality is achieved

you can throw me bouquets
chant my name and flair
but i pray to my siblings
they’d pull me out of there
distractions are temptations
to get lost in temporary pleasures
only to come back to reality after
i’ll start to forget the fading laughter