I constantly tiptoe at the brink of insanity,
Continuously treading so close to its realm.
Sometimes I wonder if it's worth the trouble
Or if maybe, just maybe
It would be wiser
Smarter
Bolder
To welcome the insanity
And tumble in
Head first.

They say
Tiptoe through the tulips
But where did they say
Smash through
The violets
That are blue
Like my heart
Or the roses
That are red
Like the blood
Pouring out.
When did they say
Make sure to crush
The sunflowers
Once golden
Like my future
But tiptoe
Through the tulips
Heavens forbid
They come to harm.

You're in the tap of my foot
As I wait for the bus
In every song we used to sing.
Though it would be good
To forget about us
I remember every little thing.

One love so pure,
None could defer,
Not even Satan's try.
Two arms stretched wide,
They broke our pride,
And set us loose to fly.
Three in One,
Father, Spirit, Son,
Always whole and free.
Three nails held there,
In His despair,
For you and for me.
Forgiven true,
What He went through
To rescue every soul.
Five pints of blood,
An infinite love,
They saved the world in whole.

Skipping stones
And broken bones
And memories long gone
A summer through
Like me and you
As the leaves change on
I remember now
And it's my vow
To forget of all we've done
But I can't say
Within this day
To regret all or none.

tick tock
rhymes with clock
and sunrise
with goodbyes
know
to go
and flow
and so
By and fly
and cry
but while heart
pairs with start
nothing, not one thing
rhymes with orange.
Poor orange.

Little girl
Big dreams
Bigger shoes
Small esteem
Shoes to fill
Space to grow
Fears to face
Love to show
Place to be
Things to learn
Hope to find
More to earn
Little girl
Big dreams
There’s more to find
Than what it seems.

one. two. three.
but i've forgotten
forgotten how to count
how to feel
how to live
how to know
forgotten how to breathe
how to see
how to sing
how to show
how to show the difference
between laughter
and the heartache
what is real
four. five. six.
or have i?
have i forgotten
perhaps we become
what we say we will
or more often than not
seven. eight. nine.
we become what we promise
we will never be.
ten.

In truth
I'm happy
But I used to be
Quite broken
Hence the poems
And the heartache
And the sadness
And the hurt
Of course
Now I realize
If I press enter
At the right time
It can be considered
Art.

Wash away the makeup
The paint of another day
Wipe off the fake smile
That hid all of the pain
Farewell to the laughter
That stopped what you had to say
And greet the tears of nighttime
Which company held at bay.

I flee from the masses
And fly to the rooftops
Up the worn staircase
To the confines of my mind

Within the loneliness
The ever-changing thoughts
The shatters of memories
I am trapped.

Her lips kissed the air
With the sweet words she whispered
But the broken mummer that caressed the silence
Was her heart and soul.

The world sat on her shoulders
And shifted beneath her worn sneakers
Because what is a vibrant spirit to this place
If it is not masked by a pretty face.