The main theme of this poem is um, triumph
So uh the secondary theme of this poem is defeat?
How could that be? Is that even what a poem is?
Is my life a song? Is this the ******* chorus?

Something crawls up from the drain through the ***** dishes and out of the sink. It grips me! It’s got me!

[This is the part I want to hide]

I saw a man so beautiful
Rarely is there ever a beautiful man--
a man so beautiful you want to kneel
and scream “You’re so beautiful!”
But instead I’ll worship him in the ways he insists:
by stepping aside on the sidewalk,
by laughing at the jokes he steals from me,
by squandering the money he pays me to do his job.

Is my life a song? Is this the ******* chorus?

It took me three to four years to learn
the difference between worshiping and begging,
between faith and belief
And now I have neither and engage in both and yet
My life feels like a free coffee and bagel
My life feels like an unwrapped candy bar
My life feels like a compliment from a stranger
My life feels like a birthday card with cash in it
Is my life a song? Is this the ******* chorus?

This is my once-yearly poem.
It’s like a broken perfume bottle at the bottom of my bag.
Look at it-- read it. Smell it.  Literal swill.  Most things make me feel sad, even more things make me feel threatened, especially this poem.
What is there to do but put my head in my hands?
What is there to say if not sorry?

why is it so easy
to break beautiful things?
to **** a bird in seconds
that took millennia to sing

i cradled that glass
i held on for dear life
and all in an instant
it slipped before my eyes

broken glass on the floor
funny how the shards sparkle
only boasting their magic
after their downfall

can't handle much more
this feeling is awful
every moment so tragic
can't get enough though

your heart and mine
evolving from nothing
since the beginning of time
shattered in seconds
cause I said the wrong line

it's funny how fragile
god made beautiful things
it's pretty ******* tragic
some birds never learn to sing

What if you are "her"?

The only thing that matters,
is the Love that you take, in.
This time,  don't run..
    but stay  here
    In whatever form  

    that you,  choose
    to reveal yourself  from within.

In misunderstanding,  you've been hurt.
And in blatant disregard  for all things
but the truth,

I have dispensed
that hurt.

Promise to stay, this time
    and I'll promise  
    to ask  you how you are.

Stay this time.
                xox

writing poems in the notes app
on a cracked iphone 5 that doesn't have a sim card
well past the moons rise into the sky
thinking about leaving this
dry, cracking, miserable town because i'm done
aching for rain

there's too much of you and i here
and i'll never forgive myself
for folding all those paper lotus flowers for you on valentine's day
i now know the dangers of
putting so much of yourself into something so fragile