"migrational" poems
My healing began
Six months into my recovery
When I tattooed a monarch on my arm
And tried to ignore the irony
That what I had chosen to protect myself
Was something so laughably fragile
But what people don't understand
Is that monarchs are migrational
They may only live six months
But they travel over 3,000 miles
All the way from Canada to Mexico
And back again
They see more in those six months of life
Then most humans do in a lifetime
They live
So maybe my butterfly
Wasn't about protection at all
Maybe it was just my decision to live.
Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 10:29 AM UTC
we resort to cussing when the only repercussion
is our own fault from what we sin but we feel within
that life would be too much for us to change our touch
ask what we have on this earth to better our worth
when it is our choice how we use our voice
minimal thoughts make noise serious ones cause poise
because we never chose to think of why the ribbon is pink
the red cross resembles the sick or why us humans were picked
to be the most knowledgeable in the world we paint our life as a mural
when that thought alone is irrational; we fail tests that are passable
we get confrontational simple business operational
"I love you" feels sensational but the words are migrational
Life was right here and you moved right passed her
and we wonder why in the hell that we have no answers
Jan 23, 2012
Jan 23, 2012 at 10:13 AM UTC
long drives are good
for counting
short lived
love letters
lasting
laying waste
In some landfill on the border of
Northern Georgia
dreaming of
three four
crushing concrete columns
and shaking out
some of the weight
you may have left
me in the backseat
of my car.
Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 1:33 PM UTC