Sitting here at lunch toying with the idea of opening an Etsy store. To be completely honest I’m afraid of failure. What if I put myself out there and nothing happens? I used to be more courageous. Like I could do anything ya know? But live long enough and failure becomes a reality. I failed…
I wish I could sit In the gold Of morning Sit into the pinks And oranges Of sunset Without having to draw A sword for the black The battle we fight When left alone To face the dark And all its monsters The fights though Bring back the light And even though I feel alone…
My boss has walked in on me more than a few times to catch me ugly cry. He walks in and I smile… as of smiling will distract him from seeing the tears. It’s an automatic reflex. To hide my pain. I don’t cry as often these days. I try hard to take care of…
It’s safe here in this space My beautiful diamond cave If my tears had fears I could shout, let it all out There is no day or night No open or closed signs No neon flashing arrows Just hard, strong walls Built from my own strength My own failures My own victories. No God or…
I see her The many hers Living life around me Growing up hard Bodies holding bruises Smiles forged by heartache Eyes that glisten like fire glass There’s always such a burning Slow and steady Working at their insides Making them stronger? Making them angrier? Will they become supervillains? Will they become heroes? People talk about…
There are little regrets The kind I feel I must remember For next time Like next time I’ll buy not rent And then there are the big ones Like what did I ever see in them And I have such a bad memory I left the cheese out last night I really liked that cheese…
The universe inhales Inside my brain The tiny moon And all the planets Float like dust Inside a vacuum Created and uncreated With every idea Every thought And still their existence Feels infinite
You can be made from stone And you might still crumble You can be made of songs And you might miss a beat You can be made of poetry And you might lose the words You can be made of color And you might be in the dark There are no guarantees None
It’s hard To sit in the dark Surrounded By old feelings To let them Materialize brand new To be searched Yet again To be picked apart To be analyzed It’s hard To face your trauma To feel it To listen to it But this time You get to speak Here in this dark The doors…
Maybe the words won’t flow There is no waterfall No marching syllables Maybe the sigh doesn’t come There is no gentle breeze No soft release of air Maybe the eyes can’t see There is no rising sun No focused images Maybe there is no beat There is no thunder No vital signs
