August 17, 2017



If I were to expose
All you hold below,
Would you run and wither or
Just maybe would you stay and grow?



A Handful of Pennies

There is no better therapy
Than to pick up a pen
Write down my emotions
And throw them in the oceans
A wave of white pages
Sit back
And watch
As the vast tide rages




They ask me why
I plant a seed
And then so casually walk away.
Well, sometimes it takes time to grow.
If I were to sit, eagerly awaiting its bloom,
Then it would only grow
To resent me.
You have to pick at the right time,
With the right fingers.
Otherwise, everything you’ve ever hoped for
Will fall on someone else haphazardly,
Without caution. When you’re too rough
With a petal, it will blemish or bruise.
In that case, we all lose.



A Difference in Temperature

You could not break my heart

Although it is made of glass

It failed to shatter

You could not break my heart
Although you tried
You could not break my heart

Although I begged

It did not matter
Until you were depleted
Upon its unwanted repossession
Like something setting from the sun
Suddenly kissed with frigid lips
I watched the pieces scatter
You could not break my heart




Lack of sleep
And a healthy dose
Of what I reap
Has kept me awake all night
Disconnected from the sound
Of the morning street
In summer play
I don’t want to be here but
It will be some time
Before the sun goes down
I got all day to waste
In the confines of space
I don’t know whether to scream or
Reach for my pen and scribble some lines
I just need out!
From what dances all about
In my addled brain
Then out through the shine
Comes a bout of rain
There is no escape
I am tearing my hair
I cannot wait for someone
To come and sweep it all away
Every last remainder of the day
So I might sleep in peace


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