Writing this poetry, can
be a cathartic process;
it allows me to explore…
all that’s within me. By
doing so, I am able, to
uncover the inner finesse

that He has placed inside
me. Simultaneously, I am
clearly pushed outside of
my comfort level; between
sharing my work, finding
what’s in me and The Lamb’s

expectation… of my heart,
I find the experience of
writing extremely humbling
and satisfying. Hopefully,
my poetry’s quality will  
improve, as I voice Love…

from my human perspective.

she says
that he is her drug of choice
and i agree

he is a dangerous
illegal
life ruining drug

he gives her the high
and when she comes down from it
she falls so hard
and he withdraws himself
messes with her brain
ruins her mental state

but she's addicted to him
so even though
he beats her up
on the outside and in
she will
again
again
again
come crawling back to him

My side of the valley is green
It is flat and the soil is fertile
My crops flourish
My livestock are healthy and strong

But when I sit in my cabin
at sunset each day
I look across the river
and stare through the mountain pass
and bask at the beauty of those green plains so far away

I often sit and long for it
How I would love that land
The beautiful pastures
And the luscious mountainside

So as months pass my want grows
I bring myself to abandon my land
and lead my life onto another path
I tear down my home and pack my crops
I heard my animals and I head out
I do not look back

Through my travel the crops deplete
And I lose half my livestock
And I myself feel hope growing thin

After a month of traversing the mountains
I arrive at my new home
And I plant my crops, in the soil that's not as rich
I settle my animals, who are not as healthy
as they once were
I sit in my cabin on land that is not as flat
And I look through the pass and across the river

At the beautiful green land
Laying flat on the countryside
I think back to where once lived
And I long for it

Breath in throat. Breathe child breathe. Keep reminding myself this is just memory.  Nor more reality.........

ACT I
i feel rained on
cracked open
left to bleed
on pure white snow
i feel raw
yet
i am in pain
i am always in pain
i am in so much pain
i cannot tell if it is pain anymore
i am in love

ACT II
is it known that
i would rather bleed
than cry
i have so many secrets
that are not mine
they fill my mouth
fall down my lips
like i've sunk my teeth
into ripened fruit
they are omens
they bite at the skin
on my bones like locust
the blood trickles to my feet
there's so much
there's so much
there's so much
there's so much
im a *******

ACT III
why didn't you try
to replace the rocks
in my chest with flowers
did you know
i was already gone

ACT IV
*** can be sweet
in the back of a car
nervous and tentative
shaking hands against
sweaty palms
moving together
touching
at the same time
we were warm

ACT V
not every living thing
is necessarily alive
i died eight days ago
with my lungs
collapsing
on top of each other
and my nails
digging
into my palms
i shed my skin
like the hair
from last winter
i clawed at the leaches
gnawing at my bones
the hardest part
wasn't dying
it was remembering
that i was ever alive
it was taking a lungful
of air and exhaling
the dust rattling
around in my chest
it was missing the sound
the feeling
of my heart beating
against yours

ACT VI
i once
had someone
with skin
like an angel
she treated me like ****
and smoked far too much
but i guess
i was the one
with the problem
because we broke up
years ago
yet sometimes
i find myself
smoking cigarettes
trying
to taste her again

ACT VII
"please," i begged, my knees scraping the ground, "let me fall out of love."

Poetry in free verse
Doesn't need to rhyme
Or have any
Discernable structure.

It is
The best kind
For aspiring writers
Who lack
Eloquence,

Such as
Myself.