I am dyslexic,
And I can spell:
D-e-p-r-e-s-s-i-o-n.
Font wards and backwards.
I can invent new ways,
How it looks,
sounds.
I am dyslexic
And I stumble over the word:
L-I-F-E.
This lyfe's
Syllables I have yet to conquer
Or the ability to make it possible.

Life

                               Lyef

           Liph

                                
                                           Lief

you kissed my scars and told me i was                
                       beautiful.
    tell me now, how i can forget about                          
                    someone
                                 like
                                       you

When the sun rises,
the moon has no say but to leave the morning sky without a glance
Albeit sullenly, albeit unwillingly, he leaves the dark to turn into day again.

When the cold breeze turns
stronger, fiercer,
and the temperature starts falling,
autumn slips away imperceptibly,
in the dawn of winter.
Leaving behind dead leaves,
dead trees and death death death,
the sky will weep snowflakes.

When her tiger cubs mastered the art of hunting,
the tigress has to forsake her offsprings.
She abandons them in the dead of the night,
as they make their second ****.
There will be nothing but
indifference in those cold,
steely eyes.

Like the seasons, like nature itself, was it that natural for you to leave me? Were you the moon, autumn or tiger?

Sand-crusted catacombs of dismembered dreams
Settle beside memories of the child who grew up

In rocky Harpswell, Maine. Not many beaches,
Only a foggy stretch beyond Morse Mountain --

But I used to stand ankle-deep
In the water, wait until my toes sank

Into crystalized Earth
And bubbles from Littleneck clams.  

I’d stand there until goosebumps spread upon
My blanched legs, rising up, up, like the artificial hills

Of Maya Lin’s Storm King Wavefield.
Now, when I lie alone,

Misplaced inside a vacant Manhattan studio,
I surrender to sirens and accelerated lives.

Peace comes in painting – thick oil,
Violet and claret on stretched canvas,

Depictions of neon signs and cityscapes,
Cheap t-shirt stands on street corners,

And 24-hour coffee shops with “specialty”
Blends in little white travel mugs – selling

To flocks of strangers, strutting like pigeons on cement
Sidewalks, pretending they belong.

You let me down every time....
Your judgement destroys whats left of me every time,,,
Instead of letting these tears fall I prefer to smile..
I throw the lamp at you so that I can miss..
I scream so you can tell me to calm down...

I Push you away so you can pull me closer...
To hate you means I once loved you.. I still do.
It hurts to see you everyday and act like I dont care
It hurts that every time I am happy the first person I want to tell is you.

It hurts to love you, every time....
It hurts that everyday I dream about waking up next to you
It hurts that every time you never notice me...
You can be among-st a crowd and I will still find you..
That's because I love you and it hurts , every time...
And finally it hurts to accept that you dont know how I feel

When some one asks you where your home is, do not say his name. Do not say anything. He should not be the place where you feel most safe because his two arms do not suffice for the four walls where you should feel content. If you are not happy with yourself, then you cannot be happy with him.

2. Sit on your roof. Even if it’s only once a week, once a month or once a year. Just sit there. Bring someone or go alone but do not sit there and stare at the stars wishing you were looking down from the sky. You needn't say, think or do anything for a short amount of time so spend it satisfied with your life.

3. If you would not say it to someone you love, do not let someone you love say it to you. You are just as precious as they are, maybe even more.

4. If you like the song, then listen to it again. and again. and once again. Listen to it until the words ring through your mind in the silence. Do not share it with anyone. It may become theirs and you do not want this. Listen to it again.

5. Wear your good shoes. Not the ones that look nice but make you sore. The ones that let you drop your responsibilities and run faster than you ever have before. No one likes the kid that spends the night complaining about their feet.

6. When someone breaks your heart, buy a plant. water it every time you cry and when it dies because you have drowned it, buy a new one.  After there are no tears left and you can finally care for your new plant, you will come to the realisation that although your tears can drown a shrub, they will never drown you. Once you fully understand this. You can finally blossom like the plant you deserve to be.

7. Never judge a book by a cover or a poem by it's title. Words can mean almost anything and sometimes, most shockingly of all. They lie.

I remember so well when you broke my heart.
It was not passionate, or romantic, or anything like what the books described.
The park we sat in, was so quiet that the beats of my heart sent pulses along the ground and up to the branches of the trees above us.
I can still see the picnic rug when I shut my eyes. Lined blue and red, I ran my fingers across it, much like I used to your spine.
You spoke of your new girl, the way I wished you would speak of me.
Eleonora. You told me.
Your Ellie, Your Leo, Your Norie.
Although it was not this that had pained me.
It was what happened next.
It was the way you turned to me, with your ever fluorescent eyes
and asked me how I was.
It was the way I looked at you and lied.
"Good".