The battery mostly empty sends less power through
the act. The art of you. The heart of you.
I've heard the drums since I was a child.
Music sent from my futures unseen,
to touch me young with destiny.
Lowest now I've ever been in the pit,
the place to which ashes descend,
I know the movie must play to the end,
but I'll send back honesty and a meager providence
sealed with well wishes and love hidden in the frames.
Best believe in watching me I know your names.
Cyber ink is always bleeding through the screen,
writing me a list of beautiful, infinite minds.
Reading it back aloud recharges my mystic energies.
I take a deep breath before my return to form
then open my lungs for the dive.
If I drown in you, let it come.
I'll stretch it out though,
as I want to cherish the heights of
beauty lacking in me that I see for the future in you.
When the moment comes I'll show the tribunal
the heart of rebellion as I learned it through
the audience in their seats.
The spider shall rest for the weaving
as the suspicious oracle returns.

Dear love,
Every time I think of you, I can't help but thank you in my head,
Thank you for all those bitter sweet memories you gave me,
Thank you for all those moments you spared for me,
Thank you for each time
You looked at me and smiled
Like I was an art to behold,
Thank you making me feel like I deserved love,
Thank you.
Maybe, our happily-ever-after
Wasn't meant to be,
At all.
Maybe, our meant-to-stays
Were here to say
Goodbye.
Maybe, all we were,
Was a chapter,
Meant to be
Closed.
Thank you.
You left,
But the pain still lingers,
And it always will.
Thank you.
Yours, once-upon-a-time,
Love.

Hello, Poetry?
have you come to save me?
take me in your sweet, painful grasp
rip open my heart and soul
and let them drip on the dim screen
of my phone at 1 a.m.

thank you for the sweet release
of emotions that gathered
like flocks of birds
inside my head

my anxiety haunts
the 100+ poems i’ve made
but that’s better
than my head instead

i’ve fallen in love
with spilling words
even though sometimes
it hurts
so thank you
Hello, Poetry

as poets
thank the pain
thank the sorrow
for it gives you something to write about

as poets
don't take the beautiful moments for granted
don't be afraid of happiness
because that too is something to write about

as poets
appreciate everything life throws at you

lower abdominal area gurgles and balloons
gastrointestinal tract
     vis a vis flatulence croons
in tandem and/or subsequent expulsion

     eliminates ***** waste
witnessing sprinting to bathroom, this scribe
     (against time) and jet propulsion
     of sphincter muscles'
     spasmodic desperately raced

unpleasant symptom of anxiety/ panic attack
twas a stranger to this rhyme stir,
     who now finds himself barrack
cay did, and held hostage, where thoughts
     about mooning doth not crack

a smile, or baring derriere tubby more exact
me up - matter of fact
no source of laughter, nada one ha intact
     (despite usual presence of chuckles
     from this fan of good humor) high jacked

for what seems a maternity leave
     from all mothers tub be
thus envision, a bevy of pregnant gals
     aching with cramps he

ving (times square of the hippopotamus)
     with ****** fully dilated key
ping alert, when mother nature ready
     to pull up all stops (via umbilical cord)

     to deliver nee,
sans bundle of joy, followed
     in quick succession with after birth re:
placental sack, hence said effort to expel newborn

     the closest scenario experience ill suited to dance
afflicting this anxiety prone lovely bones, an all expanse
paid (seat of the pants) accursed bane of proletariat grants
no truce to attend finds me pampered asper this rants!

Thank you for being
There for me when I was not
Myself anymore