Jun 13

The tent on the sun

The tent on the sun

We watch, we watch the ripples in our hands turn to fire. Burning the roots of our hair, sculpting the honey in my eyes. As our bodies are changing i feel the texture of the world move, i feel it shift under the brains in my feet. My hands grip hers. The borders of the tent turned to the shades of her hair, soft and thin as snow. Her and the tent become brighter and brighter, the sun inches from our fingers pulling at our atoms turning everyone thing to one, one moment. The sun looking into our eyes, braiding our hair, mending our souls. The tent on the sun, the warmth of its shell sharing with anyone; here it is time to breathe.

Jun 13

​The strength of her love

The strength of her love

As i wake up, i'm not cold.

The warmth of the blankets between me and her warm and hopeful.

This brings me back to the cold nights and the broken window.

The memories drowned out, and resurfaced as a happy place

with her.

She helped me forget but not just forget; tame.

The heat from her kept my heart alive

she kept it beating. if your home is where the heart is,

my homes with her,

the lungs in my body so weak,

but with her safety revived them with armor.
Jun 13

You're 15

You're 15, scared at a family reunion,

mustering the courage to tell.
It's noon and your plan was to have already told

them what your lips have been dying to say.
Your grandmother and uncle question you on what you've

“learned” in school, but you zone out the moment you start to watch their lips.
Your grandmother steps closer to your white shirt,

jean pants, and pin.
She realigns her eyes to the picture, on the thin metal piece of jewelry

“...a rainbow...” you look into her eyes trying to pry out the words she's about to speak.
“Why a rainbow, does it mean anything?”

You look down as your chest concaves to pressure.

you say as you feel your head plummet to what feels like past your knees.

Your heart - your lungs - your knees themselves, so weak.

You’re so mad, you want to tell them about your girlfriend
and how happy she makes you.
Jun 13

Be my Juliet

Be my juliet; means never give me a rose,

let me with my lustering skin commit thousands to you.

Be my armor but never my helmet;

let me grasp learning, but watch me when i teach.

Be my once in a lifetime kind of love; Let the love surround our rendered hearts.

Be the Juliet without the death, without the family, without the knife.

Being MY Juliet, means to understand that i already had hid the knife, tainted the family, and shattered death.

I am not scared of what any Juliet might bring,

i relish in the thought of her smile; though i've never seen.

I can already feel how her lips pout and her smile glitz.

I can smell, the flowers she left on the floor as she paces the mouth of our wooden cabin home.

I sense her dark brown hair, and the years of hidden freckles under her round eyes.

Her warm hands intertwine with the weaves of my heart;
Jan 14

Unnoticed by you

Unnoticed by you.
Things not babied by your eyes praised by me, the smoothness of the lockers sliding against my fingernails making ticks as my fingers leave admiration, but to you silence of why the girl with the alerted eyes are finding such relief as the lockers get to shortened stop. Or when the unnoticed me is biting my sleeve, listening to the squeaks of my teeth leaving small teeth marks on my sleeve, I can examine with my fingers. Unnoticed by you, the way I roll down my window with the winter days punishing my pink nose, but I smile as it laces my eyelashes, but noticed by me everything. The way the lunchroom trays feel, indented and weaves in plastic, like the clearness of my mind, Unnoticed by you..but you’ll see me soon.
Aug 09

Brain Waves

I'm not going to lie, I'm scared. scared. I'm always the one to smell fear before the others taste. see no evil, speak  no evil, hear no evil. i am a child that has a shadow of pure energy. energy purified. i see with my lips. i see. i see, with my lips. i put my hands to the sky because I want to feel the morning love. clouds. coffee. cuddles. my brain is like a drain, it only sees one way. One way. on these days i put my blue dress on. pink. red. orange. as a light stands at my feet. spotlight, stop shinning you're scaring me. some say gold is the proudest metals. stone. gravel. and i understand because I feel bronzed of my silver.  My silver. the silver has remained in my hair. remain. remained. remains. I'm on one train. yellow bricks. that takes my mind off the world's  codes. 1 2 3. if I am strong why must I be reminded.  blood in my eyes but same as it is in yours. sssssssh. I'm finding the white rabbit but the smile gave me all the directions. N. E. S. W.
Jul 14

Smiling at Strangers

Jun 25

Mother Says

May 04

The Crave of Music

My lips still crave the enchanting land of the smiling face of the songs that sound like gold. My body shakes with new rhythm of an old song. Understanding isn’t something that may come to me easily but with the musical words I make no mistake. Piano keys, microphones, and blank paper are the planets to my empty galaxy of stars, they shall never dim. Just like dimples magic only happens when you smile. It feeds off the laughter at parties, or even to calm the tightened muscles of an angry jaw. I can feel the musical strings such as a guitar, replacing the nerves in my legs, arms, and face. It’s in my blood and it keeps me warm in times when im cold.
May 04

For the screen in the Sky.

For the Screen of the sky, am awake for the static it brings. My mind is awake for it always has been. Just like the sky I can relate to the static in my head. Being awake isn’t bad for I watch, my eyes never close, but for I always have the noise of static in my presents. My TV plays on repeat daring me to forget its words watering in its mouth, as I forget my mind is drifting to sleep. The bitter words of the characters on TV leaves a taste of admiration, so my mind plays the static once more.