Kick your boots off, stay a while.
Hang your hat by the door.
Let the weight slip from your shoulders.

Wash the dust from your skin,
in the steam of my shower.
Rest your head on my chest,
I’ll tussle your hair, slow and easy.

No expectations here.
Just quiet.
Just breath.
Just us.

Little bird,
Your cage is not of my making.
Little bird,
I see the weight you carry, silent, unseen.
Little bird,
My hand is open, only if you wish to land.
Little bird,
I promise not to squeeze too tight.
Little bird,
I'd never clip your wings.
Little bird,
I’d never take your sky from you.
Little bird,
Let me build you shelter, not a cage.
Little bird,
I’ll walk beside you, not ahead.
Little bird,
I ask for nothing, only that you know,
Little bird,
You are free, even here with me.

I type and delete.
I write and erase.
I compose and destroy.
The poems I haven't written could fill books.

Too many mistakes,

Too many missteps,

Too many broken pieces
A thousand shattered moments,

Too many.
It won’t be your fault, mom and dad.

It won’t be your fault, lover.

It won’t be your fault, sisters, brothers, friends.

Don’t ask what you could have done,

Don’t blame yourselves for not noticing.

I’m the one who let it pour from my chest,
A sieve that cannot be undone.

Heavy, like a blanket that smothers the light,

A weight that will not lift.

But it’s mine to carry,

And yours to leave behind.

These nights in the dark,
They’re when I miss you the most,
When I fear what I can't know,
Where you are, what you're doing.
Are you with them?
Do you think of me?

In these dark moments,
That's when I truly feel alone.
I would reach out a tentative hand,
If I thought it would calm my racing heart.
"How are you?"
"I love you."
"Miss you!"
I'd lay my guts at your door—
But it wouldn't help.
Neither of us.

Involve me in your life,
Don’t hide in the shadows,
Or cast them on me.

I don’t have to have everything figured out to do the things I’m interested in.
For does the hermit crab let its shell crush it before selecting another?

I don’t have to be totally secure to love and be loved.
Does the redwood wait until it’s fully grown to offer its shade?

I don’t have to be financially stable to have a good time.
The deer frolic and dance, never troubled by rent or savings.

I don’t have to be healed to start living my life.
The forest doesn’t wait for the trees to regrow after a fire before painting the hillside green again.

Your skin is as soft as velvety lamb's ear, fresh from the woods,
Your smile is as bright and captivating as tiger's eye,
You grow like tomatoes, constantly stretching out and reaching out to the sky, advancing towards your goals.
Your heart is sweeter than a summer lemon drop melon, off of the vine,
Your cascading locks of hair are the envy of even the most majestic waterfall,
I guess what i'm saying is that I love nature, I see nature in you, and I love you.

I want to know your motives,
I want to know your ideals,
I want to know what makes your heart sing,
I want to know what makes your stomach churn,
I want to know why you feel the way that you do,
I want to know what makes you tick,
I want to learn your plans,
I wonder if you have any you haven't shared,
I wish for the day we share our time together,
I long for your hand in mine,
Our hearts swapping beats,
Our fingers entwined,
Our souls shared in each other's presence,
Our legs wrapped together,
Our bodies keeping time with one another,
Togetherness and closeness.

I don't know why I do the things that I do.
I know that I can get scared,
I know that I can be a lot,
I just feel safe when I'm with you
I think I used to make you feel,
how you make me feel,
I will get back to that,
I promise.

If the stars should align to make our futures the same,
I'd spend every day playing our game,
Our game of love, mischief and aches,
Playing and swimming in shimmering lakes,
Romping around between the trees,
***** hands and scraped knees,
Playful giggles and stolen kisses,
I'll play the Mr. if you'll play a Mrs.
A time of growing, learning and change,
If only the stars would rearrange.

I’m standing here, outside your door

Tell me what’s behind your secret war

Take my hand, guide me through your storm

Lead me to the place where we’re reborn


Don’t cry, love me till the morning light

Make this moment feel like it’s all right

Tell me I won’t have to leave tonight

Pretend we’re safe from the world’s sharp bite


Hold me close, don’t let this slip away

Keep me here, in the silence we’ll stay

Forget the time, forget the coming day

In your heart, I’ll find a place to lay

I doled out my fruit to those with hunger in their eyes.

Presented on a silver platter,

I handed out napkins at the banquet.

They consumed the feast greedily,

Knives and forks at the ready for a time.
But soon, the knives and forks grew tiring,

And they resorted to hands,

Tearing into the flesh of ham and turkey,

Ripping grapes from their vines,

Drinking from the wine to their heart’s content.

Ribs picked clean, cans scattered across the floor,

Appetites sated.
Left alone at the banquet,

Food all gone,

I wondered if my offering had been enough,

Had they ever seen me,

Or just my fruit?
Then you arrived,

Carrying two plates, each with a sunny-side-up egg.

You placed one in front of me,

And one in front of yourself.

"Can you please pass the salt?"
I’m not used to this,

Not used to being treated with care.

But when I passed the salt,

My fingers didn’t tremble.

The simple act felt real,

A gift given, not taken.
For the first time,

I felt like I wasn’t alone at the table.

And in that quiet moment,

I realized,

This time, I don’t have to give everything away.

Some things,

Like kindness,

Can be shared without fear.

I wonder how similar we are.
Did you have the same experiences as me?
Mom always says we are similar in our beliefs.
We don't bend over backwards for anyone.
We believe in the simple things in life.
I wish I got to know you more.
I've been thinking about you a lot, lately.
I wish you could impart your wisdom on me.
I wonder, will I befall the same fate as you?
You worked your whole life away just for it to be snatched away from you as you crossed the finish line.
I wonder if you had regrets about that, but I doubt it.
Six kids and a marriage of 40 years.
I don't know.
I hope you were right and you're sipping on a bud with the angels.

Sempre em nossos corações

You asked me what love is.
Love is memorizing your body language,
Knowing when you're happy or sad without having to ask.
Love is learning your favorite recipes,
Even if I burn them at first.
Love is listening to your music,
Especially the sad ones.
Love is staying up late, talking about our dreams,
Even when we don't know where they're leading.
Love is knowing your interests,
And trying my best to engage in them with you.
Love is learning about your favorite teas,
Even though I don't drink tea.
Love is being patient,
Even when you hurt my feelings.
Love is sharing our thoughts and feelings,
Even when it's hard.
Love is knowing that we are enough,
Even though we aren't perfect.

And then I sit on the branch of a tree, and things don't seem so bad.

No more poetry, my well's run dry.
My heart and eyes have no more tears to cry.
This will be the last poem I write.
The darkness has overcome the light.

I don't love in half measures.
If my love were bread, it would rise too much.
If my love were a beer, it would froth over the rim.
If my love were a tire, it would burst from the pressure.
If my love were a list, it would spill off the side of the page.
If my love were a river, it would flood the valley.
If my love were a garden, it would overtake every other plant.
If my love were a fire, it would scar the earth.
If my love were a song, it would echo through the heavens.
Are you ready for that?

Put the car in park,

Take my hand in yours,

Whisper that you love me,

Tell me that you need me.
Kiss me soft and slow,

Make it last,

Make it more than just a kiss, 

A moment I'll cherish.
Hold me close, just for a minute,

Don’t let me go,

Just one more moment, you and I.

The loyal dog, bound to the feet of others,
Guarding, guiding, no matter the cost.
No claws, no tools, only teeth,
Tearing through the night,
Dyeing the fur red.
Scarring the legs, the chest,
Every fight adding more scars,
Some mental, some physical.
If he’s done well,
He might get the bones discarded from the table’s meal,
A flicker of praise,
And in that fleeting moment, he will be happy.
But still, the hunger gnaws.
This isn’t about a dog.

Let’s scream-sing half-drunk,
half-memorized lyrics to our favorite songs
at 3:33 in the morning.

Let’s nestle between fields of clover,
our laughter mixing with the night air.
Let’s bathe together, blowing iridescent bubbles,
each one a fleeting moment of magic.

Let’s climb the trees in your backyard,
feeling higher than any drug could take us,
hearts racing with the thrill of being alive.

Let’s share our souls,
the raw, unfiltered parts of us,
and be our true selves
in each other’s presence.

Let’s be,
no pretenses, no walls,
just the quiet knowing that we are enough
as we are, in this moment, together.

It would be easy to die for you,
but you are teaching me what it is to live,
not just for you,
but for me.

The things I would do to simply hear you softly strumming your guitar from the other room would offend god, man, and everything in between.
To catch the moonlight reflecting off your two pieces of sea glass.
To smell the room after you've left your trail of gentle aroma.
To crawl into the bed and be enveloped in a hug by the warmth that you have left.
The things that i would do for an ounce of tenderness.

Can you ******* Marlboros still?
Can you feel my hand upon your back?
Is someone else filling your space?
When you're under the covers,
do you long for me as I long for you?

I tend the fire,
stoking it with wood,
but will it consume me?
I crave its warmth,
please, don’t extinguish it.
Hold me beside it.

I long for the day I can look over and see your sleeping face,
Brushing away the weight of yesterday.
Your curls framing the peace you find in your dreams
Are you dreaming of me?

The unseen, unheard spirit that guides us

does not linger in the pews of a hollow church,
It doesn't commute through the veins of a five-lane highway.

It doesn't nest in the bones of suburbia

or whisper between the teeth of an office cubicle.
It waits where the earth still breathes.

In the gentle songs of a waking bird,

the hush of leaves surrendering to the soil,

the wind’s low hymn through cathedral redwoods,

the autumn air, cold and sharp.
These are the roots that connect us to our home,

woven into marrow, into memory.
But I tore myself from the earth,

uprooted from my lover, my tribe, my sanctuary in the sleepy woods,

chasing gold that turned to dust in my hands.
I just pray the ground will take me back.

I don’t wish to be your keeper,
only to stand beside you, safe in love.
But why did everything shift so suddenly?
Was it really as sudden as it seemed,
or had the change been locked away,
poison pricked, creeping slowly through your veins?

Everything was so bright.
I had a place.
I had a home.
I had a boy I thought was my own.

But am I bound to these chains forever?
Will my past continue to stain my future?
Have I already lost my chance at love?

I carry fragments of every version of myself.

A scared kid, alone, waiting in a car,
the world just beyond the window,

a quiet ache in my chest.

A troubled teen,

fingers trembling,

seeking solace in the burn of tobacco.

A young adult,

locked in a cage I built,

controlled by the world and its expectations.
But in the stillness of all these lives I've lived,

I’ve never surrendered.

I’ve learned how to survive.

I’ve fought battles, against myself, against the world,

I've been knocked down more times than I can count,
But I always get up.
I still work,

a slow, steady progress,

never perfect,

but always moving forward.

More.
More, more, more!

Is it always wrong to long for more?

I know what I want, I know what I need,

It’s right there, within my reach,

Tugging at its sleeve,

My eyes devour it greedily,

Soaking in my desire.
Please, give it to me

I can’t bring myself to take it.

Let the bones from my back turn to dust and fertilize the soil,
Let the ichor of my husk water the moss and ferns,
Let the hair on my head be given to the birds for their nest,
Let them make a home from my hollow skull,
Let the heart, still in my chest, be nourishment for the foxes,
Let it all return, not as it was, but as it is meant to be.

Her touch was sickly sweet poison,
Formaldehyde, cold and suffocating.

Her fingers left a trail of bad decisions
 a path I still fight to undo.
Her eyes bored into me, hungry for a taste,

and I, unguarded, reluctantly let her consume me.
She lives inside me now,

in the restless need I can’t shake,

in the cravings I never asked for,

in the lust I fight to control.
She led me down this path,

through shadows of hypersexuality,

and I wonder if you feel anything now.

Do you ******* pain,

the part of me you left behind?

I hope you hate yourself,

the way I’ve learned to hate what you made me become.

I want to be nowhere special,

with no one special.

Our home, just walls and quiet rooms,

our cars, worn but dependable,

our bank accounts simple,

our clothes, nothing to boast about.

Our food, plain and comforting,

our jobs, unremarkable but steady,

our phones, just tools for connection.
But in the midst of it all,

we will be something quiet,

something real.
We will be enough,

without ever needing to be special.

Are we a novel or a short story?
Will the hero vanquish the villain, or will we spiral into a psychological thriller?
Is there magic lurking in the corners,
or mischief in every twist?
Will we find glory or guts,
or will gold be the prize we never reach?

Will there be romance that ignites,
or a slow burn that fizzles out?
Will triumph rise,
or will we drown in the weight of defeat?
Fighting, feuds, will they scar us,
or will they push us toward something greater?

What will our story look like?
Are we a best seller, cherished,
or a forgotten tome gathering dust on a shelf?
Will we inspire revolution,
shifting the course of history?
Will we echo the power of ancient, biblical texts,
words that change lives for centuries to come?

Will we inspire, educate, and challenge?
Or will we lull, a quiet companion to sleep?
Do we linger in quiet moments,
read in bathrooms, in bedrooms,
or do we make our mark in the world outside?
Are we a tale as old as time,
or a new chapter waiting to unfold?

Time will only tell,
but I wish I could read between the lines
turn the page
before the story’s over.

The scars upon my flesh grow dull and pale,

A reminder, though faded, of a lesson learned or a fight endured.

The wounds within my soul remain raw, vivid, and tender.

If they could be seen, they would weep and bleed,

A stark contrast to the markings that decorate my skin.

A lover, a friend, a stranger, a shrink,
No matter their attempts to heal, I react

Like a cornered animal, resisting any aid.

Can I, like a wolf trapped by a bear trap,

Chew through my own memories to escape the pain,

Or will they remain, festering and new,

A constant reminder of the wounds that still bind me?

When will enough be enough?
When the seed of doubt has fully bloomed?
When the clock on the wall has struck its last note?
When the thumping of the rain falls silent?
When the light of dawn breaks through the dark?
When the winds of change blow their final breath?
When the weight of silence is lifted from the room?
When the shadows fade and reveal the truth?
When the last step is taken, and the path is known?
When will the end finally meet the beginning?

Your heart remains covered by vines and branches
The vines shroud you, and the thorns guard you
I will not hack and slash to reveal you
I will water and nurture, letting the small bulbs grow into vibrant flowers.
I will not pick them, I will let them live and thrive
If the season of frost comes again, and the flowers wilt
and the vines turn brown
I will be patient and caring, tending to the garden of our love
waiting for your heart to open once more

Brought into this world, ****** and afraid,

My face blue, unable to cry,

I took my first breath in silence,

A cry buried in the depths of a heart not yet ready.
I woke up one day, six,
And found the bitter taste of my father's world,

Beer and cigarettes,

Ashen remnants of choices he never took back,

I swore I'd be nothing like him.

They taste gross,

Their sharp edges biting against the innocence I tried to hold.

I fell back asleep,

A sleep that carried me through the years.
I woke up at eleven,

Staring down at the chalk on the ground,

Scraped knees, tear-streaked cheeks,

A bruise on my soul, unseen but aching.

Falling asleep again,

Trying to outrun the weight of the world.
I woke up at fifteen,

Cigarette in one hand, beer in the other,
Guess my old man is still a part of me,

His ghosts clinging to my skin,

Yet I carry them like a burden I never chose.

I fell asleep again,

Hoping I could escape,

But the shadows lingered,

Uninvited, relentless.
I woke up at twenty four,
And the weight had shifted,

I put down the beer, swapped the cigarette for a vape,

A quiet rebellion, small but real.

I’ll fall asleep again,

But not as the same person.

I’ll wake up accomplished,

Surrounded by a loving community of friends and family,

Roots that stretch deeper than the chaos of the past.

I will not let my past become my future,

I will grow beyond what I was,

And the kid who couldn’t cry,

Will one day find their voice.

The bird in the zoo,

A fleeting shadow,

While the tigers, lions, and bears sit pristine.

Behind glass, behind iron,

The ice cooler hums its silent cold,

A tire swing creaks in empty air,

A scratching post stands tattered,

Drawing the eyes of tourists,

The pride of the wild carry distant memories of jungles and savannahs,

Of woods that no longer exist,

Only flashes and pointed fingers remain.
They perform for their meals,

Hiding nothing,
Not a sliver of escape in sight,

There are no corners,

No refuge from the onslaught of gazes.

The birds come,

Landing briefly,

Their wings heavy with the weight of both freedom and confinement,

Dipping their beaks into water,

Picking at scraps,

And then, without a word,

They depart,

Gone again to the wild,

Leaving only the scent of freedom behind.
I, too, am a wild bird in a domestic zoo,

Half caged, half free,

My spirit soaring beyond the bars,

Yet tethered still to the eyes that watch me.

A swirl of blood, rain and sunlight,

Cigarettes smoldering in the woods,

Guns echoing where dinosaurs once roamed,
Beer spilling from broken mugs,

Footprints tattooing the muddy earth,

Where trees stand like silent witnesses.
Calm lakes, a mirror for troubled youth,

Roaring rivers hum a distant tune,

A German shepherd's bark echoes through,

Messy handwriting scrawled on weathered pages,

Anguished cries caught in the wind,

Blue jeans torn, like faded memories,

Toothy grins hiding the truth behind soaked shirts.
Bruised legs, open wounds

Tattered shoes that never stop running.

Half-hearted confessions slip through the cracks,

In the language of partially completed machinery,

Where love, like rust, clings to forgotten gears.
What feels like me?

The ache between the silence and the storm.
Never knowing the truth to the cyclone within.
Running from the past on two broken feet.
I will refuse to cower any longer.

You fall asleep on the phone, I stay silent and still

I watch the clouds roll over the hill

Wonder how long before you let me in

To the place by the mountains, covered in snow

The frost on the windows, the cold biting your nose

You need your space, you crave their love

You sleep on the phone, and my hand aches for your touch
I hope you think I matter as much

As the boy in your dreams, soft and frail

Nights like this make me feel like I’m in hell

But hell would be warm, this love makes me cold

I hope we’ll be able to die when we’re old
Sitting in chairs by the fire, hearts full of desire

Grandkids aplenty, stories to tell

Not just a house on the hill, but a love that lasts

And when it’s time, we’ll be the past

A hole in the ground, where we’ll rest side by side

And the gravedigger will fill the void where we once lived our lives

You were young, barely 16.
****** into a world of hate and pain.
You were sensitive and fragile.
Too soft for this world.
You took your life in front of the room we shared our favorite class.
The cops said you did it the night before.
I cant get the image of your cold body hanging from the gutter out of my mind.
Why did you do it?
Were you scared?
Were you sad?
Were you bullied?
The cops said the only two things you had on you were your rubix cube, and the signed ticket to the play we saw together.
You were always playing with that **** rubix cube, showing it off and messing around.
I won’t be able to look at one ever the same.
I still have the picture i took of you with the cast members.
The smile from ear to ear as you went through and showed me each signature and told me who they played in it.
Every day i see something that reminds me of you.
Should i follow in your footsteps?
Today marks a week since you took your own life.
Im full of sadness, guilt and anger.
How do i move on from this.

this site and writing poetry was a great outlet so that i didnt **** myself, and it helped me to figure out who i am and what i wanted in my life. i genuinely think that writing poetry saved my life. that being said i dont need it anymore, hopefully i never have to come back to writing poetry, because if i do it means that i am doing bad again.

You were my sunshine, I loved to feel your warmth on my back, and your beauty radiating upon my face.
Sunshine is good for you, in small quantities. I didn’t mind the sunburns I’d get and would take all the vitamin D I could get.
Prolonged exposure to sun can cause sunburns, premature skin aging (though that may have been attributed to the cigarettes you made me addicted to)  skin damage (from the knives you’d drag across my body, you were always a sadist)  and skin cancer. You were a tumor, slowly killing me, and I had to cut you away from me. I’m in remission, I pray to God that you don’t make me go through this again, no amount of treatment, whether it be cannabis or prayer could save me a second time.





I am vitamin D deficient.

I could never wait to get to the center
of the lollipop without biting.
Never had the patience of the kid in the commercial.
I was always the owl.
One lick to growing up too fast.
One lick to unwanted ****** scenarios.
One lick to depression.
One lick to heartbreak.
One lick to self medication.
One lick to suicide.
Lick.
Lick.
Lick.




Crunch.

i hope he loves you the way i never could

You have my heart, but you aren’t here.
She has my body, because you aren’t here.

You promised me forever, forever you were mine.
As long as long as the stars would shine.
How was I supposed to know forever could burn out so soon.

thank you for  breaking my heart into pieces, you taught me how to put myself back together.
thank you for not loving me, you taught me to love myself.
thank you for leaving me, you taught me how to find myself.

I want to french kiss you
with a grenade in my mouth

This is the poem I never gave you, I always promised I'd write you one but you left before I could. I could write about the way your freckles dotted upon your cheeks and nose were as numerous as the constellations, or how your wavy black hair was as captivating as the darkness of the black night sky. However, you are unlike the constellations, you are like the ocean, vast and deep but so close to us, yet vastly unexplored. Did you know we have explored more of the moon than we have of our own ocean? You resemble the ocean in that way, everyone always looks to the stars and revels in their beauty but overlook our very own deepness. You are like the ocean, you slipped through my hands like the ever-changing tide softly rocking against the beach. To bathe in your calming waters once again would quench my love for water for eternity.

just call me, just once more, let me hear your voice and the way your haughty breathing drifts over the speaker. Please let me listen to you, let me listen to you, let me listen. Please tell me all the answers ive been begging for tell me how it all makes sense. Tell me what happened, tell me what you did, why you did it, tell me how you could have done it.