First she looked beautiful... a single number... written easily

Then we started talking... addition... one to the top... another to the height

I thought I began to understand her... multiplication... seen through... though not entirely there

I fell in love with her... lines and points... simple... just beauty

And she loved me back... got good results... the blessed me

We became a thing... 1+1... I love you

Suddenly she changed... geometry... to the east

Became complex... algebra... find x... find me

I tried so hard to understand her again... Function... the function of her... me

Too complex... logarithm... to the base she ducked... me parabolic

And she started pulling away... integration... irrational

She told me it was over... calculus... I still miss you... pusssss

We broke up... 1+1... I hate you

With no kids that we dreamt of.... became a dropout... me

Every time I see her she looks like... math... every string of her unreachable... the forbidden fruit... and even the blessed Adam couldn’t swallow her

Our world turned upside down,

I sat in the unrelenting cold.

As the ivory flakes cascaded,

I was left without anyone to hold. 

It was dark, it was dreary,

even though it was bright outside.

Roses slumped in the crystal vase,

the color leeched out as they died.

We solemnly listened to the radio,

as it sat on the ivory mantle of frost.

In all its brokenness, it played

soft songs that had once been lost. 

And in all my darkness, I heard

the nostalgic, hushed guitar strings,

that I followed on a dark desert highway,

that gave my frozen heart wings.

They brought back memories of you,

Through a shimmering light.

For I finally thought to myself,

I felt free of the velvet night.

I remembered how I loved you,

and fell for the look in your eyes -

cerulean like the dark sea,

magnetizing like the sunrise.

So I hoped, with all my soul,

that somewhere, by strings of fate,

you'd hear this lonely song, 

and know that it's you I await. 

because we had been here before,

Frozen under a single light.

I missed your deep blue eyes, 

in this monochrome sea of white.

My love, the radio whispered,

and I thought of your heartbeat.

As I had heard it a year ago,

leaving me painfully bittersweet.

I never meant to love you,

but the moment you smiled, 

I, unequivocally, knew I would - 

to the darkened edges of the wild. 

Some dance to remember, 

some dance to forget,

but we danced to love,

no bleeding moments of regret. 

So now whenever that song plays,

I think of you and a never-ending December.

I only hope, when you hear these strings, 

wistfully yet in love, you remember.

A wilted rose, strung over a dagger,

I solemnly watched the petals fall.

Don’t think, for a moment, I didn’t see it,

I saw the crimson writing on the wall.

You waited, quietly, for perfect,

the moment from lingering dreams.

But as you got down on one knee,

you saw the look of broken regimes.

I shook my head, stars crashing around us,

waves decimated the shore line.

But where was all the blood coming from,

Impossible to tell, your heart or mine?

I took the rose, you felt the thorns,

embedded in our diverging hearts.

The ringing of the world, loud in my ears

They said, as we scavenged for the lost parts, :

She could have had it all,

If she didn’t chase the dream in her head.

She could have played the part,

rather than blood only tears to shed.

under a summers day,

the pale moon in the velvet sky,

you approached my darkened smile,

and quietly asked me why?

I said, I could have seen it all.

Our life, from now til death.

It was so easy to picture,

and simple, like my breath.

There was no great unknown,

rather a white serpent of a dress,

it would have been unbearably mundane,

if I, like a quiet rose, had whispered yes.

but that was the biggest problem,

That I saw the life you called our own,

but darling, I want the grand adventure.

and I am only scared of the known.

#poetry #poem #fantasy #prose #rose #dagger #love

for who i once was, this is for you:

i’m not good enough.

never will i hear that

i was born to succeed.

i’ll always prove that

i can’t be as good as others,

so don’t tell me

that my best is good.

i have learned

that hard work does not matter.

it’s a lie

that my failures create character

and you know what? i know 

that my goals are too big.

i’ll never accept that

i’ll make the world a better place.

i’m telling you

i’m a waste of time.

i won’t let anyone think 

I am enough.

(now read from bottom to top/reverse)

#pain #life #understanding #battles #enough #prose #poetry #love #life #happiness #darkness #fight #self-doubt #mentalhealth #lies #succeed #writing #creativity

I guess to everyone that reads this, I pressume you can tell this poem comes from a very personal place. It comes from a place of pain and immeasurable self-doubt. But let me tell you something, life doesn't discriminate between the good and the bad, it just hits everyone. So when life hits you with lemons, take them and throw 'em back at life.

and to all who are reading this, please remember that you are not a bystander in your own life. You are so much and inexcplicably more. There is a life you haven't lived yet and people you haven't met. Don't live your life like a prequel. Just don't. Becuase i'm not going to sit here and tell you that it'll be worth it in the end, becuase I don't know that for a fact. What I do know is that the fight itself will be worth it in the end. The way it shapes you and cuts you, leaves a mark, a story and it sure as hell makes you strong. So... final remarks? Let it hurt today as long as you get up tomorrow, and remember that the fight is, and will always be, worth it.

I've taken my shelter in the books since I was young and dreamed of adventure. 

Wrote down my thoughts in the alpine abditory, so I could seal them in a far-off land. 

Yet, here's the thing about my story: you'll never see it all.

Yes, you may read the story, the writing in blood-red ink on the wall.

Or feel the quiet beat of my heart within a page. 

Maybe feel the war within, upon the thunderous rage. 

And once the story is over, you'll quietly think to yourself.

'interesting' without a glance and return me to the shelf. 

But I'll tell you when you meet me, if only for a minute or two,

You'll begin to see something different, only given unto you.

For the people, they say, she's an enigma, complicated as a tapestry spun,

but darling, no, I'm just a lot of simple people, all rolled into one.

Where was this within your story? They asked, reasoning that I was an open book.

Just becuase you read my story, I reply, does not mean you got the whole look.

They'll ask, where was this before? I hadn't seen the hidden signs.

I shake my head. Here's the thing, my story is in between the lines.

#poetry #writing #thoughts #lines #paradox #challenge#prose #secret #deepest #books #stories

crystal raindrops on windowpanes

sweet spring breezes perfumed honeysuckle and rose

new moon skies sprinkled silver with starlight

maple leaves of amber floating on an east autumn wind

book pages tacked onto yellow walls

pinky promises laced with elementary secrets

frost like angel wings veiling muddied gardens

rose petals pressed between softcover stanzas

and you,

made in the image of

the magnificent Maker of rain

the wondrous Whisperer of winds

the star-breathing, moon-molding Artist

the Shifter of seasons

the awe-inspiring Author behind every story

the perfect Keeper of Promises

the divine Decorator of this desert land

the patient Caretaker of creation

He who exhaled the universe into existence

and still desires your heart;

Yahweh.

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8:38-39

It’s on Us:

Is this the world I live in?

So very bruised, it’s heart beating but black and blue.

I might never understand your pain,

But I will stand here with you. 

I’m a powerful person, 

bold, and ready to make a change.

Just like the strong poeple out there,

Because in our country, this is what I find strange.

You say we’re all created equally,

All crafted the same under god.

So tell me why some of us seem to matter

Some even and others just odd.

I don’t know about you,

But I hope that we’re different

I hope we stand peacefully together

To create change that's significant.

Because one way or another, 

my children will not grow up in this tattered society,

For we will build a place, worth its people,

And celebrate in the variety.

I promise if you look for hate,

It’ll be there, right in your face,

But if you choose to look for love,

It’ll light your darkest days.

There’s no two sides about it

And this issue, there's nothing to discuss,

And until people understand that, 

This fight, it's on us.

Her

whispers

are like soft snowflakes

kissing my soul.

Her

eyes

are like Poseidon’s oceans,

rushing into my veins,

drowning my heart in unconditional love and comfort.

Soulmate.

I should be working on an essay but I'm not but whatever I need my professor to email me back anyway.

Passion,

Love,

Fingers interwined,

Fires raging in our eyes.

This is the color of my blood

When the pain cuts deep,

Scarring my skin.

Anger,

Hate,

Blades in hand,

Drops of blood staining the floor.

This is the color in my soul,

Shamefully, humanly so,

Making me just like my kin.

I think you’re mine every now and then. I know you’re not, but there are brief moments when the night tricks me into being a firm believer of my own helplessly romantic conspiracy theories. There are conversations and laughs that carry clandestine meaning in our air. We might not know what that meaning is or where it came from, but we know it’s there, behind the toothy grins and wordy eye contact. Our air is heavy. Drunk or sober. The air that flows between the two of us sitting next to each other by the fire under the stars after midnight. The air that has to work constantly and stealthily when we’re all together to contort and disguise itself as innocent, “close friends” bullshit.

I could also just be crazy and lonesome. But most of me thinks you feel it too.