you don't need
wise words
to be wise

Your help is air when I’m
Stifled by doubt and confusion,
For you, I would count every star,
I would paint your dreams
Even if you feel like your hopes
Fall apart at the seams
Because those threads tie
You and I together even
When you’re tired and try
To keep me stable when I cry,
They keep us together
When you’re cross and unsure,  
They keep us together
And help us endure.

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The ultimate seduction.

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Such sweet glorification.

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The anguish of separation.

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The mind-bending revelation.

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Oh, glorious motivation.

But really, they’re everywhere and always -

Those damnable phonemes.

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Even musculação.

But finally, hopefully, there's Felicitação!

Have you seen my thoughts?
They’ve gone missing
I think they ran away last night
After Should and Could were impolite
After Want and Need had a gunfight
After Love and Indifference lit dynamite

i close my eyes and try to think
of the day he gave me a wink

i was frozen from head to toe
marveling at my future beau

my mind was blank, my heart stopped dead,
resulting in my cheeks bright red

his hazel eyes were hard to bare
i stood there locked in his glare

he walked past me and started to go,
I turned around and saw a foe

he held her close, they shared a kiss
I much prefer ignorant bliss

It lives in the creases surrounding our eyes
Which have been overused by smiles and tears
That inevitably come with the proof of our years.

I have yet to finish searching
For ways to preserve my being.
I’m afraid to lose my thoughts,
my words, my ideas, my emotions -
My life.
I desperately attempt to revive what is gone
While I seek things I know I won’t find.
My thoughts wander through time
As I sit here and reminisce about
Being lost in an in-between place
Neither the past, present or future
But a combination of all three.

The sun had set to the west and
left behind warm strokes of red.
I admired the finished work of art
And noticed how my childhood was
Painted with the same fleeting colors,
Until all that remained was
A blurry memory.

My hands itch to dust off
The neglected typewriter sitting
On my grandma's shelf and
Remind it of the life it once had
In a forgotten age where
Fingers danced methodically
On carefully partitioned stages
And moved to the rhythm of keys.