Poetry

I don’t remember
what I was wearing,
only that everything felt
too heavy for a ten-year-old
to carry.

The world had been quiet
in all the wrong places —
no voices soft enough,
no arms open long enough
to stay.

If all is ash, and only one breath remains,
let it speak not of endings,
but of patterns —
how stars learned to burn,
how cells whispered to one another
until they sang.

In shadows where silence forgets to breathe,
we find the smallest flicker —
a light too stubborn to die.

The world breaks, yes,
but so do waves —
only to return,
stronger,
to the shore.

Dear Mr. Hero 
Have you won the last war? 
Oh Mr. Hero 
Have you caught him before?

He isn’t a sinner 
But he’ll contemplate 
Doing something a good man 
Won’t do
How about you?

Bubbles rising higher,

Multiply through the sky,

Focusing on each one till they merge into

One big facade.

You say it was a 

It's strewn on the floor

again, because I was too lazy

to throw it in the hamper

and instead it's on the carpet floor.

And it's there next time

I'm crying on the floor;

People enter, stay for a few floors,

Then 

            They

She has many sides

a faceted diamond

clear and shining

she drapes herself over the landscape

engulfing the cool orange of fall in her white satin robes

cold and gleaming

I cry because my love could lose her livelihood for loving me and yet she loves 

I cry because to live is a gift I thought was a curse and now I refuse to die 

Is violence all we now know

Can we know now how to stop this

Can we turn a table upside down

Down is up is what is the upside

What is the inside of a killer

Is their DNA barbed wire

Why’re we like this

Blue softness and warmth

Blue peace beyond all else is

A warm blue sweater

i want to be you.
 i want to unzip myself
 and step into your skin.
 wear your smile like armor.
 speak with your voice
 and not feel it shake.