Sway.

I have never seen the snow
but I have been
cloaked by
thick woolen blankets of cold.
Of nothing.
Melancholic chill emphasized by the
lack of sun shining,
reflecting in my eyes.

Everything tasted bitter.
No means of heart nor
hand held to be sweet.
An ocean full of people;
I was drowning,
and yet,
I wasn’t even submerged.

“Show me how to live.”
How am I to assist a
smooth faced angel
when I myself can’t stand on
my own
two feet?
I sway.
But if I can sweep the ashy blonde hair behind his ear,
then stagnant I shall remain.

From paper
to Rock.
You can write love letters on paper but
you can carve them
into stone.

“Show me how to live.”
Living isn’t being alive but
feeling.
“Show me how to feel!”
they’ll cry,
but crying isn’t an emotion.

Feeling…
Truly feeling
is being encapsulated by warmth when gazing into
icy blues.
Feeling halved when you are whole.
Aching cheeks when they smile;
red painted lips,
scattered hair,
you’re still perfect.

The snow I’ve never seen refused to flurry in my vision.
The sun,
she isn’t shy,
She dances and sings and she
glimmers sweetly on
beautiful faces.

To be lonely in a room full of people is to be freezing under a blanket.
Get a thicker blanket.
Surround yourself with different people.
Refuse to be alone for you will
thrive
when you pull back and see
eyes closed;
cheeks painted pink.

Flowers will blossom for
you
to pick and the rain
will sing;
for precipitation only bears
more foliage for
you.

Giving and taking and
giving
anything to see his nose crinkle.
You’ve shaken hands with symmetry,
but these marble sculptures are
whole.

Show me how to live?
No,
Friend,
do not watch, for this is not a show.
Seek it,
find the heat when the snow falls,
wear a coat,
not for fear of the cold but for
acceptance of the
warmth.

Make open arms
from closed fists and
sway.
Be a metronome until
you, yourself,
have found a rhythm.
And Sing.

jumbled

my brain works differently
it’s a mess of wires
complicated and intricate
people think they can organize it
but they can’t
i like it
jumbled
i find the order in my chaos
in the eye of my hurricane
there is
peace
my brain is like a quiet fire
calm and relaxing
or the tranquil ocean
docile and waveless
until people come in and brew
a storm
and try to put out my
fire
but the fire keeps me going
so don’t put it
out.

Raindrops

Pitter, pitter patter
Sounding like innate chatter
Drip, drip drop
Why do they all have to talk
Some are quieter than others
But they still talk just as much to their brothers
Some are invisible
Others are more bold
Quick as a splash
Or slow as the lazy river
They all act the same with their
Pitter, pitter patter
Sounding like innate chatter
And their
Drip, drip drop
Why, I ask
Why do they all have to talk

Sky Myths

Stars have their myths
But do clouds have those gifts
If stars are our ancestors
Does that make raindrops their tears
What if the stars are the gods
Does that make thunderstorms their angry wrath
What about stars being lost souls
Does that make clouds their protectors
We know about stars and clouds
Therefore we know none of that is true
But you have to wonder…
If stars have their myths
Why don’t clouds have those gifts?

My Body

My brain is a mill
Full of words to till
My head is a farm
Harvesting thoughts tangled like yarn
My chest is the grass
Unyielding under a great big mass
My arms are the soil
Delicate and easy to foil
My stomach is an ecosystem
All the parts working in a delicate unison
My legs are the earth
They are the base of my living hearth

Stories

My life reminds me of a book
Because everywhere I look
Things have to be done a certain way
And that’s how the laws have been laid
Mazes everywhere I turn
Unsolvable so there’s nothing to learn
Sometimes I’m so confused
I’m almost past the point of no return
If my life really were a book
I would leave it to burn
No need for boring
Repetitive
Novels
They’re just kindling
To my flame inside

Parents

Don’t do this
Don’t do that
This is how you sound
Things are about to change
Especially with my father
That is why I bother
When I ask questions you get upset
But my future I have never met
You tell me I will leave soon
But I don’t know by which moon
If you love me
Accept my fear
Because I love you dear
Mom
Mother
S.O.S.
And I can tell you nothing less

Aggression

Aggression
Punching and kicking
It’s almost like a clock
Ticking
It piles up inside
But by the rules I must abide
Rules don’t follow situations
I get upset with my relations
Aggression
TV shows
Fights
I don’t understand how to turn on the lights
They were never on
But other emotions are gone
So I’m left with one
Aggression