Poetry in Teacups

Give me poetry in teacups Pour me milk from a cup of expectations Sweeten it with intent and desire I want poetry in a teacup Serve it to me lukewarm So that I may forget it’s there Give me poetry in a teacup Stir in bits of denial and doubt Heat it back up again…

In a field of flowers

I hope to see you in a field of flowers Becoming one with the wind Swaying with wild roses Remembering how beautiful you are I hope to see you in a field of flowers With a crown and a smile Or maybe tears on your cheeks Thinking about where you have been I hope to…

Bloom like flowers in spring

My dear, I see you waiting on the next shoe to drop For the next heartbreak to come your way I see you crying in a corner, miserable But there will come a time when sadness can only be counted as a moment in your pass You will grow to love once more And bloom…

The rage that comes with depression

Heya! Happy Friday. Here’s a weird little short story about rage, depression, and a possible dead body. Hope you enjoy it. He sits by the window and sinks his nails into the arm of the chair. I walk by and smile, placing a hand on his shoulder, feeling his vibration. “Today, the world is a…

Sands of time

I have written your name in the sands of time Carved out your sacred place in my heart And for me, for today, for an eternity That is enough to know that I loved you

Moth to a Flame

I turn my head to the west and look at the dying sun Moths flock to a flame they don’t understand I am there, moth to a flame Consume me just the same

I have fallen in love with the simplicity of dawn

Small birds sing in the distance and I remember a simpler time I wake, rubbing the troubles of the night from my eyes and reach for you I have forgotten that you no longer lay beside me, or with me at all Crumpled sheets greet my hand and I dwell in silence. I break off…

March Goals

I swear it feels like I’m still waiting for 2020 to start. But it’s March again, so welcome all ye kindred spirits.  Lately, I have been terrible at being a consistent writer; it’s not that I lack motivation, but more so that I lack the need to keep going. I know, I know, you’re going…

Our Trauma Lies to Us

When you pour hot wax on your skin, you tend to anticipate the feeling. It’s similar to getting hit by someone you can’t avoid. Your muscles tense, and you brace for impact. At that moment, you are as vulnerable as a spider’s web. Open to the elements and ready to be torn down given a…

Between the pages

What lies between your pages? Do the words describe you, does it know what you are? In the midst of a dream, I hope you remember falling. I hope the sun finds you I hope all your roads lead to gold I hope the world stops and stares at your beauty. I hope between your…