Send me a letter

One where the words bloom of the page like flowers

A letter I can carry in my empty dark pocket

Hoping the the love would illuminate every crevice of my cracked body

Let the stitches fall out my skin

Let the wounds heal

Let the flower grow out of my bloody cuts like the words danced across the pages you gave me.

Like flowers that bloomed out of that coffee stained envelop

The smell sweet

Sweet like you yellow rose

Take me out to sea

Where the loneliness seems normal

Where there is nothing but independent fisherman

with no knowledge of anything but the many empty years on a boat

To be frank I feel like I’m already there

Lost in the middle of the midnight sky

With the bright white moon dancing around the waves

Taunting me with its friendship

Somedays I miss the numbness of the cold

Icing my fingers into immobility

At least there I felt strong

At least there my suffering had a reason

Four days of the overflowing uncertainty

Released by the seconds of your spirit

Breathing in your fresh flower scents

put off by the heaven sent love

spiralling through my now transparent heart

Creating masterpieces out of your verbal face

Glistening stars shine in the eyes of the creator that gave you the same eyes

Teaching me how to endure the waves of self doubt

In the these memories I try to explain the emotions you bring forth

When all seems lost

you replenish

I'm not sad enough to write

I'm not good enough to jot down clever words on this beautiful sheet of pearly fibers

Why can I only write when I'm sad?

Never do I want to limit the expression of my soul

Every inch of my being

Being sold to the world

With hopes to reach every broken spirit

They just seem so distant 

The plans of being a poet

The foggy taste of self inflicted defeat.

My natural instinct is to make a home wherever my head lies

To pull closer to my surroundings

Often times then not my heart is shattered

Shattered from the claws of blackened hands

Reaching for my peace of mind

Poke and prodding at my nerves 

Like raw meat on a skewer 

Playing my tendons like the guitars strings I cling to

Draining my blood

With open hands I say

"Here let me help you with that."

To the scientists that say feelings are not magic

That they can be explained by chemical releases in the brain

Do not tell me when my heart aches that I need your problem solved pill form fix

When ever my eyes water they feed the flowers

I am here

I breath in this emotion

Do not tell me that my mood swings are a product of my brain failing me

Have you stopped to think about every word that come of that money feed mouth?

You say there is no magic in emotions

That they can be explained by chemical releases in your brain 

Now this may be true Mr. Scientist but does that make them any less phenomenal?

The broken anxiety of a silent page

Utterly terrified by a blank white sheet

Where did my worth go?

Questioning my sanity 

while the demons claim to be the louder echo

The pressure is unbearable

The dream of a poet lies dormant

with each passing moment my lips are stitched shut

It's my job to cut the cord

My job to scream back 

and my job to hold it so tight that my bloody knuckles tare out of my skin 

To let the burn become more then an aspiration 

It becomes a purpose

The emotions run deep when I think of you

All the souls that I have allowed to wrap their deep seated love around my heart

*"Thoughts are slow and deep and golden in the morning"*

when I think of you

The people that have brought abundant purpose to my being

Do you understand my beloved how vital you have become?

How much We need you?

The whole world is screaming your name

In this moment you are light

on the morning of grey gloom

You shine brighter then any apathy

Heart felt love

Bless you

*Quote by John Steinbeck, from Tortilla Flat*