He cried like rain
And screamed like thunder

And I

I was a quiet river deafened by his storms

sing me your inspiration,
so that words may blossom
through the rings of the tree
in my paper.

gift me your passions,
so that pathways may carve
through inked rivers
and graphite daydreams.

paint me your love,
so that I may palette
your rainbow
and color my canvas

with my favorite colors of you.

the soft pink
of the inside of your lips,
and the offset grey
haloed through your eyelashes.

tiger lily freckles framed
by sweet peach
and wallflower blushes.

rainfall wrists
and dutch cocoa silk.

all my canvas needs
are the colors of you.

I look at myself everyday
in the mirror and then realize
I've been given the most beautiful gift
I could ever ask for - my existence;
my chance of life;
my chance of love.

My mind, madness
Overpowered by rhyme,
But no reason
Just emotions embedded
Beneath my surface
Exuding words
Written, not spoken
Dreaming in syllables
Replaying rhythm
Piecing poetry together
From what most keep hidden

© JL Smith