Her lips try not to utter a single word about you,
and her heart is restraining from letting you feel it.
So she hides your name in every poem she makes;
where there is freedom to say that–
your smile gives her warm,
the look in your eyes is her weakness,
your touch leaves verses,
and your presence is an embrace.
You are the beautiful idea of her poetry–
the reason behind her glee.

*-Steph Dionisio, January 11, 2017

In shaking verse
She writes down the gifts of his divinity.
Her trembling meter pays homage
To the ruby red circles seared onto her skin.
Every stuttering syllable is an offering
That she conjures as a devotee,
Who has defaulted on the repayment
Of words, now long overdue.

He demands epic proportions of gifted wisdom,
He asks for legendary lines in his honour.
He demands for glory to his name,
Written in red.

The patron saint of inspiration
Retains his light,
And casts gifted shadows over her,
As she struggles to her elbows,
Drowning in loud, blank papers.

The patron saint of inspiration
Waits at the altar of poetry,
Watching tributes flow in,
Mounted on her fragile skin
And faded rhymes.

The patron saint of inspiration
Inspects the fabric of the writer's soul,
And passes judgement
On the worth of her tears,
Ever smiling, ever watching.

The patron saint of inspiration
Lures her to the gates of Eden
Only to have her trace her words
In the eternal dust of the ephemeral
Gods that gathers beneath it.

His grace against her fatigue,
His divinity against her anguish.
His grand schemes against her hope
His knowledge against her intrigue.

The patron saint of inspiration
Watches her from the walls within.

The patron saint of inspiration
Encourages her divine sin.

Tell me what makes you smile
in a moment or more of apathy,
you know how long
I’ve been wondering about
divine sin of mine.

Unforgivable sorrows
dug the face of fate,
outside our bent shadows
how could we go about life?
It’s only ground stardust
the helpless time far from you
In full dissolution.

I systematically built my web
with my own hands.
Emanating all your eclectic
and sonorous vigor,
you lively shine
like the diamond on your chest.

I put in chains yearnings
trying to content them with dewdrops,
while I figure it out
how much gaunt my poor spirit is,
because it’s only you
who can make me
truly smile…

It feels like walking on
the wrong side of the street
to know what I don't want
and the one I want
could rather belong to me
but to the other side of the world.

Sometimes things are so clear,
It's so much easier if I'm out of touch
I won't lend , the evil it might seem,
by chance on my feet standing up.

Like a negative, reversed I see
a simple truth in backlit design
that you'll always mean to me,
nonetheless, that I'm alive.

Spending hours up to find
what the night is trying to tell me,
reading lips as hard as fall asleep,
I wouldn't let slip away
words and sounds
now they've got
something to say.

The times it's all blue
the times anything goes
so imperfect
so anew,
but I wanna feel good
I wanna feel good now.

The only places my soul can stand
here alone and wherever you are.
Gritting my teeth, holding back,
biting my tongue, hiding my eyes.
But hard is the way
That makes it great,
Yet it's to come my time.

This world I walk in, stumbling,
as ordinary as anybody's can be
I have to struggle getting it that way.
I wait light years for something
like that something awaits for me,
I should wanna be there come what may.
Maybe I'll finally feel like I belong
cause so far I've never really missed home.

I've always said
I wanted to escape
from this little town,
Somehow,
starting it all over again
as if I've learnt from my mistakes

Had I?
Am I able now to write a new life?
When will I be ready to sing a song of mine?

Many faces I pass by, sometimes
I wonder what if they knew me?
I'd be wary and keep my strange.
I see too much into every eye
like a life lived before, through it,
time to turn it all around and change.
No city is too big, so isn't your heart,
when you've got nothing, you can only go far.