Gathered in a single point,
the mind seeks to expunge
what it has never been taught
to hold

an ostentatious show is employed,
but free will is an illusion here

perhaps I will wait

I wish I was coming out of this
A butterfly 
****, just something with wings

Hasn’t it been a cocoon?
Crying and crawling, desperate times 
We're begging for change
When did it come to this?
I was just thinking about finding
What I’ve hidden 

Guess there was more than I thought

Where did I put it?
I know it’s in here somewhere 
Did it fall between the bed and the wall? 
I’ve dug through all the corners 
Third eye throat stomach swallowing heart
Plenty vulnerable with no discernible 
Skill so I know it’s unlikely but god
There’s a script a book a song or two
A business plan, A landing joke ?
Something somewhere in these poems
All over my floor and tucked into my arm 
Maybe it’s in my phone, probably not

I wish I was better but of course, I am


Even if you can’t see wings 
Maybe they’re bound 
Just under my elbows 


I’m better 
Even if it’s just barely more than before

It seems like you're on my mind
Your eyes that glow so bright
Your lips so plump and soft
Your hands so soft and smooth

Our memories together flashes
Through my very eyes
Vivid yet so clear
Happy yet so sad

Hidden feelings ruined me
Every fiber of my being
Calls for your presence
I just miss you so **** much

A memory is just a story altered.
Every recall differs from the one before it.
The details will fade, though the essence remains.

An orator of the mind spins the tales,
Our experiences catalogue them.

The bitter ones grow even more bitter.
The happy ones grow even happier.

But this mind of mine refused my request.
Figuring some memories are best,
left behind.

And so in my unremembering,
I ponder the splendid and mundane,
that has all been locked away.

sometimes,
i just don't know
how to get
other people
to listen to me
in return.

i give them
all my time,
all my love,
all my attention,
yet it just
feels like
i don't get
reciprocated
the same way
enough.

i need
a listening ear
and a shoulder
to cry on, too,
you know?

please
help me.

Rocks and scissors
Pen and paper
Tell me what it means

Many places
Covered faces
Stranger than it seems

Songs and paintings
All erased by the incoming tide
Facts and figures
Left to drown as they are swept aside

Tell me please just what you see and don't you try to lie
I'll uncover all the truths and the silence that you buy
Cant help you now
Welcome to the underground

In a forest, tucked away
hidden between padded ferns
and angered flowers,
whose roots grew wider
then the seas,
was a heart crossed
of all the thorns
she didn't need.

these songs i wrote,
the chorus intertwined with thoughts of you,
you sing along without a clue.

-lilac