Old and stained,
ragged and worn,
with holes and even
unraveled and torn.
Love is like your favorite sweater,
well used and seen all kinds of weather.
After a few years
and several loose threads,
there may be holes that need mending.
Don't get too worried my dear,
as long as the time that you're spending
is carefully piecing the threads back together.
Love is like your favorite sweater.

in waking life we are well fabricated lies,
personas perfectly tailored to the world's expectations.
it is when we sleep that we know our true selves;
our innermost fears and desires, the intricate complexities
of our daily lives woven into an elaborate metaphor
left for us to decipher. these cinematic masterpieces of the mind
often leave us with more questions than answers.
but every now and then, the subconscious realm leaves us a crystal clear message impossible to ignore.

Almost is a word often used
with negative connotation
Synonymous with
nigh
nearly
not quite
When the thing you strive for
is just barely out of reach.

"He almost caught the train"
"She almost fell in love"

In this case, it's different.
What I would give
for an almost right now...
"It was almost too late"
"She almost didn't make it"
"We almost lost you"

Never had a chance to hold
to be held, or to be told
Never had a chance to say
and soon you will be far away
All the things I'll never know
I must find a way to let them go

On occasion you can find me
lost in lonesome corridors
cleaning bones out of closets
wandering down winding hallways
with faint and foggy memories lining their walls.
Amongst boarded up, locked doors,
few remain open, awaiting guests
in the dusty space I have yet revisit.
I wonder how I wound up in this haunted home...
My home in fact, though I often don't recognize it

You opened a door
I wanted to keep shut
and now the things
I feared behind it
run loose and wild
dark thoughts take hold
multiplying, spreading
a disease I cannot cure
This darkness engulfs me
and your hand is just
barely out of reach

There are countless stories
living, breathing in my bones
begging to be freed,
piercing the unknown.
Each day conjures a tale
that plays out within my mind,
a world that seems so real to me,
who knows what I may find.
My subconscious divided
between this world and my own;
A thousand lives have settled
and made myself their home.

I lit myself on fire
burned my life to the ground
and overnight it vanished
without making a sound.

a black hole has a gravitational pull
so strong, nothing can escape
the day your mother gave up on you
was the day half of your heart collapsed
sending yourself into a supernova
for a decade or so,
devouring everything in your path
destroying everything you couldn't have
becoming a stellar black hole yourself
and I was a light, a star to guide you home
the gravity that pulled me in
will now consume me
disappearing on the event horizon

poetry runs like blood through my veins
words strung together to emote beauty
or pain, a beautiful necklace wrapped
tightly around my throat, the things
I'm dying to say dripping from
the tip of my tongue. Honey or poison,
both sticking to my gritted teeth,
unable to escape and create
the beautiful poetry
bleeding on the page

she burned every bridge
because the heat from the fire kept her warm
and the danger of the flames were better than emptiness

she burned every bridge
and sank every ship
before she realized she was on an island
alone.

It’s a strange feeling.
I can prove that heartbreak is a physical condition,
just let me tell you
that everyday I wake up with a
heavy feeling in my chest
and I’ve begun to realize that it’s my heart
frozen over from your cold words. Your icy hands
have gripped around what was left of
my love, taking it so deceivingly
destroying it so effortlessly
leaving me so empty.

It's like we’re playing chess.
Moving strategically, testing boundaries,
all while watching each other’s expression.

We all know how this games ends…
The queen destroys you and steals your heart.

I tried to bury the hurt
deep, deep inside.
But it returns to haunt me,
because I buried it alive.

i may grow
from a crack in the concrete
but i still grow

as difficult as it may be
i will not let the weight
prevent me from blooming

It sparked my interest
caught my eye
the glittering deception
of a living lie
frozen and captured
where the light shone far too bright
and blinded me
looking back, it was brief
everything I thought he wasn’t
has caused me so much grief

There is a vast depth within me,
strange and inexplicable
even to myself...
No words exist to explain
the truths that lie there.
Only pigment and brush
intuitively composed
on blank canvas
by hands none other than my own.

dinner
prepared so carefully for you
curled up on your plate
next to the other sides

and you take your fork
and you take your knife

and you cut me open
and you take a bite

quiet
restless
stirred by words
that poke between ribs
filled to the brim
with resentment
what does happiness taste like?

is it sweet?
or is it bitter, like a low realization
that you get what you pay for
time spent
money wasted

the present reality
or the parallel universe
where everything you wanted
exists

who am i?

a heart is wild
a beating, throbbing beast
held prisoner by the ribcage
hardly contained
within this bony enclosure
ready to leap
right out of my chest
and consume you

do you know
that strange, inexplicable feeling?
the one where you did nothing wrong
yet you are filled with guilt?
or the one where you came back
after having the time of your life
and now everything feels
sad and lonely?
like our soul is trying to tell us something
that our logic hasn't quite figured out yet.
pay attention to that little feeling,
that little voice inside you,
that's always there but it never shouts
it is always soft and quiet, gently nudging
kindly reminding us of our untapped emotions,
if we learn to feel them deeply
we can begin to know ourselves.

tell me why I dream of you
is it because at that same moment
you are dreaming of me too?
is it because energy doesn't lie?
whatever was between us
just doesn't want to die

a strong silent power,
rising steady and certain.
putting in the honest work,
day in and day out.
our feminine nature
is the kind of persistent presence
that withstands, and outlasts
life's constant challenges.
eternally exceeding expectations,
we overcome, we succeed,
we grow.

I'm drowning
in a mass of asphalt
blinking lights and broken buildings
Monotone voices, mindless drivers
woken up only by perceived interference
in their trip from point A to point B
The trip they make everyday
a life that rips their cares away
one by one we all fall down
underneath the weight of expectation, obligation
pushed and squeezed into a tight little box
I won't let this be me
I won't let you take every last shred of hope within me
I may be sad, I may be angry
but I will not become the mindless robot
that has multiplied within the bounds of this city
This city cannot take me
It will not eat me alive

the soul inside of me
is growing far too big
for my body

and I hope catching a glimpse of what you can't have is worth losing what you already do.

No matter the expression
across my lonely face
know that underneath
I feel out of place.
There's an ocean of lava
crashing against my shell
boiling up inside
this small version of hell
caught within my lungs
so I can hardly breathe
afraid if any leaks
you'll turn around and leave.

I wish I could put
these moments in a jar
and whenever I am lonely
home would never be too far.

I have a garden growing
entangled in my chest
the earth is overflowing
making quite a mess
pushing daisies from my ribcage
roses blooming in my heart
my lungs are filled with ivy
so I don't fall apart
each day the roots grow deeper
filling in the holes
I have a garden growing
deep within my soul.

if it were up to me
we would meet at the edge
of the earth and the sea
in the space between
dreams and reality
and that's where we'd stay
for eternity

I once had
a beautiful voice
and you asked me
why I no longer sing.
I turned to you
and quietly replied
"because I was a bird,
and you clipped my wings."

If I could find the words to speak
and say them without getting weak,
it's all right there inside my head
thoughts just jumbled up instead.
Give me a chance to write them down
and I'll describe my world without a sound.

I looked upon the night at my family of stars
My brothers and sisters burning bright
illuminating a dark sky with their beauty
My mother and father who brought me here
a twinkle in their ancient eyes
from long ago, taking form over centuries of history
All of my family's universal energy
flowing together for their descendant, me
to have an opportunity to breathe
to exist for a fleeting moment
in the greater eternal scheme

I wear your heart
on my heart
and your pain
also belongs to me.
When you begin to cry,
look up at me
and I too will have tears
staining my cheeks.
When life feels too heavy
please know I will be there
to lift you up if you fall.

And when a smile
creeps across your face
and laughter escapes your lips,
you better believe
I'm wearing a grin to match.

I've grown a new layer of skin
in just less than two months
I now have an exterior shell
protecting me from reminders
of the pain that lies underneath
protecting others from the discomfort
of witnessing a mental breakdown
Now it's harder to feel
and when a crack begins to spread
I'm quick to patch it up
because it's easier to swallow my words
than to speak them through tears.

The anticipation of spring's arrival
knowing that it seems far but is closer than we think
That's what makes winter beautiful
We see everything die, the cold settles in and overstays its welcome
We begin thinking it will stay winter forever
and then the sun thaws out,
a little green plant pushes it's way out of the earth
and it says, "it's not the end, it's a new beginning."

The sky cries in fresh water
and my eyes write letters from the sea.

though you and I
have yet to travel
very far on Earth
through the night sky
I’ve lost count
of all the stars traversed

the pain doesn't go away
it only grows deeper
becomes buried
and from time to time
resurfaces, often when
you least expect it
when you're washing dishes
or driving home
your thoughts wander
to hidden memories
and before you know it
your eyes fill with tears
you try to wipe them away
and push these thoughts aside
but why would you want to forget
something that you care so deeply for?

an August rich with wanting
in September my leaves changed colors
and I fell into madness.

twice now I've kissed you
deep within my dreams
and in that world it feels so real
but it's not all what it seems
I will replay those moments
in fear that they will fade
I will keep them like memories
that my heart has made

a wick to a flame, I will light up
and meet the energy I'm given

is my candle burning from both ends?
is my true form an unlit candle
or a pile of melted wax?

Very small and hardly seen
Fens are where you've always been
seeking sedges for you to eat
lay eggs, feed, metamorphosis, repeat.
Without care and conservation,
we will destroy fen feeding and breeding stations
and so we also lose the few
Mitchell's Satyr butterflies too

as of late my dreams disturbed
by things unseen and things unheard
in waking life fears are suppressed
but as I sleep they all undress

Perfection is overrated,
we use this word all the time
to describe people, things, moments
but this description is inaccurate
We all know nothing in this world
is perfect in every way
Eliminate this word from your vocabulary
Replace it with: real, beautiful, honest, true
You don't want to be perfect
You want to be wonderful, beautiful, mistake making YOU.

strange how a very real moment
later becomes a less tangible memory

time passes and our memory fails us
(what color shirt was he wearing?)

tiny little moments become representatives
for longer spans of time

a phase, or an age
comprised of only a handful of images,
plus the smell of burning candles and vanilla frosting
always plants you right in the middle of your ninth birthday party

constant contradictions
harsh words with a gentle kiss
cold eyes with a playful touch
a short fuse with tender love
always in defense mode
ready to attack, to attach
to a tone or a word misspoken
and my skin is thin
and my heart easily broken
yet I build makeshift armor
and pretend to be a hero
while you build and destroy walls
and you swear that you
love, love, love me

She shook her box of puzzle pieces and said,
“There’s some missing. But I still put it together sometimes,
And pretend that it’s still all there.”

I cannot explain
the radiating darkness
this tiny frame holds onto...
Like a black hole, small and dense
consuming all light surrounding.

A collapsing sun
once brilliant enough
to light up a solar system
now disappears upon
the event horizon.

She’s not the only one, she knows there’s others out there
People like her
who have the ability to appear,
To come out of the woodwork, waiting just below the surface
for the perfect moment to
attack, to attach, get what they need…
While everyone else goes around calling them monsters,
so they live that way, it becomes a game.