Snowfall. Before, it wasn’t so important to me but after the beginning of it all; it gave meaning to me, to everyone. Snow meant it was safe; that they wouldn’t come out, it was the only peaceful time for everyone, despite the cold. It hardly ever snows anymore in the world. The few times it actually does; it makes everyone realize how much time we have yet to live. I hardly remember a time when it snowed all winter; that was a long time ago.
When it started, it affected the world; it affected the sky and it became so dark no one could see anymore. With the sky went everyone’s minds; everyone slowly went insane.
It started
sometimes I'll wonder how we met,maybe through a comment,
where I saw you not through my eyes,
but through my mind,
i never saw your face,
all i saw was the sweetness and thought within,
i never saw what you looked like
but I knew you were beautiful
because it will always be,
the inside
that counts...
the desperate kind
where you long to indulge
in each other's bones,
where you curse your skins: floodgates,
keeping separate your blood.
your eyes
offer only exteriors
when you want to observe
all the uncharted worlds
she cradles in her collarbone,
to take a telescope
and look down her throat
and find the stars
wandering from their constellations.
under her dirty nails,
in the ridges
of her fingerprints,
of her palms like deserts,
furrowed
by divine breath-
she reads like erotica.
sunday.
I define my poetry as
an alphabet soup of
mediocre one-liners
gone cold.
monday.
My words brace to splatter
against the microwave walls
of some unfortunate skull.
tuesday.
My lips are chapping,
confessing yours
to some disembodied thing
that coaxes them calmly.
wednesday.
My stomach releases
the butterflies that occupied it
in the days we occupied each other.
thursday.
My name is
the softest word
in a sentence
I wasn’t meant to hear.
friday.
My eyes open
because today is a part
of my
cosmic blip.
saturday.
I define my poetry
as the leech
that bleeds me.
you hissed out
only one Truth
while you wrapped
around my chest in
perfect corkscrew
fashion and
constricted
all of mine
but my lungs
are cautiously
creeping to my ribs
again,
really believing
they deserve
the extra air,
and I'm realizing
what that sentence
really meant-
but it's just
as well
because I'm
not weeping
between every set
and rise
any longer
and I've
done
battle with
my last snake.
What happens when we die?
I've never believed that we would fly.
Such a selfish notion, this holy land...
Though I'd wish it true, if it were just for you.
Across the span of decades
Faces are put to their paces
Traces of dust
Galaxy-wide or bust
Under the overflow of time
I am a mime
Because here words
Are weightless
And you are a tourist
Taking your shots
From careful angles
Fret not
Over these trespassing signs
They were put there to test resolve
To erupt within you the urge to explore
This place was yours
It always ways
Here each grain of sand
Will sing your name
As it stings your wary skin
And the beat of the sun
On your neck
Will synchronize
With your own
And down the years
Your regret for leaving -
It shall gnaw away at your edges
Grinding -
Eroding your confidence in
the fact that y
I am just a fragment within myself.
Everyone looks to me but I have no guidance.
All in turn must respect and lead themselves.
We are in a world of individuals; a world where we must express our own selves in order to survive.
Sometimes the people of this world forget that we are all different.
Our differences make us... the people we are and banish the world of the normal.
This is my world.
Her hair falls, the spring rain
Over her chest, rising
Like the hills of the world
Bright in the summer of her smiling face
She sees all the world like the clouds in the sky
Feels it with fingers like beams of the sun
Her laughter comes rolling
The wind in the trees
Her heart flows, all loving
Like salt to the oceans
I feel in the water the touch of her hands
The birds say she loves me
They sing in her voices
She hushes, with nature to watch the stars rise
I’ll tell her I love her
Through the world she’ll hear me
She sleeps now, like mountains
Our love won’t move on