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That was the first time I didn't want to runThe first time I wanted to live it through,But I was caught up in my wishes and went blindThat I could no longer see the truth.
brilliant and inflaming a pyro’s plastic milk container is wafting at the peak of fire the sunlight dripping makes a hinge and rainbows start their leaking in
Epiphany I wasn’t sure if it was there But it was Way down in the pit of me Lives my epiphany
The sun just rose in lost connection, Please undo the times we have held onto believe, False hope, dreams, and expectation. I'm just glad those two came out alive, In due time, it's overwhelming inside.  
Wear my heart on my sleeves I tend to get my arms cut off. Take my kindness for weakness They see me as soft.
A fish radiating off the moon Like the summer's light. Blazing hot as day on the coldest night. Blended in with the ocean blue. Picture perfect, what a view. Only one of its kind yet was considered stupid.
Two years ago, poetry was a writer pleasuring themselves over a page a perverse smile on their faces as they worked the pen, worked the pen. Or perhaps one so overtaken by, enveloped in their feelings
He was tall, handsome and had the mindset of a 5th grader whose favorite book was Dr.Seuss Green Eggs and ham.
i've already been where you're going and I had forgotten about that place until you came into my life and I saw your sunkissed face I want to tell you slow down but I don't want to seem tame
In your early stages of youth, that is the time to find out who are you? 
Bounded lovers grow apart by the tongue of deceit Surrounded by the foggy fate that neither one could see Collections of their accolades wither on the ground As they lie in cold defeat, within their lust was bound  
I would say I’m more cynical than original  However pastels have always been more true to my insides Even though my past lovers would disagree and train me to believe the same 
“X” Marks The Spot   I wandered aimlessly lost at sea... This jungle of a world has mislead me like a hex.
The key to life Is a curious thing Some may describe in as embroidered in gold  and flowing with satin ribbons that cascade down its side. Every minute of every day of every year
I live in a glass house My only companion, silence, As it follows me from room to room.   It has always been with me And though I enjoy its company
Hearing God talk to you through your own thoughts is always interesting.
Surround by color once a son Interactions with white are with ones that held chalk Teachers as inspiring as the one from Woodrow Wilson Leaving for adventure after summer seemed fun  
A year is enough time to look back and wonder why Things happened the way they did. Why didn’t you say the things you should have said? Every year it’s the same again.  
January, February were the months of good packing snow, packing snow on my crippled carcass in cumbersome coats. I lay there and let your bitter cover me.
Recently, I was lucky enough to experience a moment of epiphany that changed the way I viewed my life
When I was younger, life meant forever. Forever was an orange. Lingering pith strands stuck beneath nail beds. Palms faintly yellowed from the mist  which clung to clothes like a child.
I figured out why I feel I don't have real friends So no matter who I'm with I feel lonely in the end It's because I don't live with love in my heart The distance between I and my true feelings keeps me apart
Fuck. ... ... ... Might as well start this With my best foot forward. Do you want the story? Emotional exploring? A lot has happened In the last 20 years. ... ... ... Relatively so.
This road of turns and bridges took me to a cliff I went off my cliff I am alive My road is now dark and uncertain I reach for light but then stop myself
We're all just fucked up, living in a fucked up world. I go out drinking to forget my boyfriend. I find myself with an epiphany, I am more important. I sigh and I sit on this pavement that is cold.
I’ve come to realize, i’ve been living in my own lies. Fully submerged, head beneath the surface living my daily life without a purpose i was a hypocrite to my own speech “chin up buttercup” i’d always preach
When I think about it all, it really brings tears to my eyes The relief of no longer hearing my soul cry. For once, I feel as though the burdens of life have lifted and my destiny and dreams have once shifted.
It has taken mea very long timeto come to this point,but I’m realizing nowafter eighteen yearsof my lifethat it is okay to feel.I spent so many monthsof my life
To Walk a Mile in the Rain
My Redemption  
"Tell the story of your life, and tell it well," they said.
I hate myself But the saddest thing is I hate myself because you told me to Because you told me I wasn't good enough Because you screamed at me
I don’t like poetry. I know, it sounds like blasphemy to an English teacher’s ears but I just don’t like it. I know, I sound like a six year old
Here lies the woman of dreams who escaped turmoil on the high of laughter, plummeted into the stories sung by written words and tears, and danced in imaginary lands while cowering from the sun.
The sun rises rises in my soul. The rays dance and  explodelike lyrics hitting the ear. I am the song. Illusionsshatter like glass. I morph into a dazzling tapestry of shadow and  light. Thesetting sun no longer reminds me of death.
The cave fish swim Round and round Going nowhere Blind in the dark   Most have no eyes But one fish sees Sees the blackness Feels the hopelessness   The fish with eyes
The sounds of a sweet bird; lively, buoyant, and free, The sounds of a bitter bird; bleak, melancholy, and confined.
Life is the frail branch of an Oak Dangling above a voracious flame Time is its only companion CRACK And biggest tormenter The occasional gentle breeze pacifies the branch's paranoia Temporarily
I sit inthe dark of my roomand contemplateall the thoughtsof you they are sunlightgold and earth-warmgone coldin my arms and inmy mind’s eye
"You make me feel, You make me feel, You make me feel.."Perfect.And if I'm perfectly honest I can't help it.All my attempts at being disaffectedAre utterly demolished,When faced with your affection.
The reason you exist, is because you were the first sperm to reach the egg. The reason you were born, is because you fought your way out of your mother’s womb.
Sitting at home on a hot summer's day, A pen in my hand, What in my poem could I possibly say?   There on the balcony the blue jay sits, His feathers shining beneath Nature's light,
Together we are two peas in a pod.  How I have you?
My heart skips every time I see you. My pulse races when you’re in my presence. I feel like my love for you is so true. I think of you even in your absence.  
Imagination takes us wondrous placesWho would believe I miss theeThy resilience of hopeI can’t say you’re quite optimistic of lateRespond to me, perhaps, with verity of heart?Rancorous thou art
Poetry is pointless.  I mean, if I can get my point across frankly and succinctly, why bother with form and rhythm. Time is scarce.    That used to be my view.  That was before I met you.   
Fair Maiden, Could This Be “I come from a battle,” He started “It is far from this land I fought valiantly but it was in vane For I had lost, I had to give my love to the victor
Her rays dance to warm the Earth, swerving and dodging in and out playing hide and seek with the clouds. Her eyes scan the room, bobbing and weaving playing peek-a-boo with the crowds.
The worst feeling in the the world Is feeling like you're being forgotten, Like you're love is not enough, Like you're not needed. But worst than that Is feeling like there's nothing you can do to change it.
... they say love heals all wounds..i say it hurts .. i've seen proof that it works..  they say love is blind... but i see it all the time.. no need to wonder she says love has made us stronger.. the more we love  the more we hurt ...
As a young boy when I first got a glimpse of thee I felt as if I had an epiphany. You gleamed and shined As if you were of something divine. I spent much time with thee-
The first time she tells me, I stand at the baker’s table, wrist deep in flour, water, and cultures of yeast. “Good job.” My startled hazel lifts to meet her calmer brown and my eyebrows rise.
Step by step she takes Holding her breath all of the way “She knows what everything’s about” they say Not a single hair out of place Her words are precious because
You must be cool and composed You must- even when all are opposed You must deny your morals and speak tact You must unite your comrades, you have a pact
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