Sunday, September 5, 2010

a little thing called love.

it crept up on me.
you see.

quiet as a fox.

and then

for the
longest time

it was doing a funky dance
right in front of my face.

what the cuss.

i've never seen that before.

that's how it does it folks.

it was right there
right in front of my face.

before i knew what it was.

but it was love.

a funny little thing.

but

i love you.
HA HA HA
HA HA HA HA HA HA
HA HA
HA HA HA HA
HA HA HA HA HA.
those hater poems make me laugh...
old lya
you were funny.
hahahahaha.
oh gosh.
if only i could stop.
come on now.
cut it out.
seriously..
oh wow...
good thing she died.

cause that could've gotten smelly.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

breathe.

sigh
breathe
breathe
sigh
yawn
cry
breathe
breathe
sigh
yawn
yawn
sleep
close
breathe
steady
steady
breathe

breathe.

breathe.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

forgiveness

thrashed.
fallen
why have you
pushed me
down?

laughing
you are
laughing
but there is guilt
set in
your
eyes.

I've skinned my knee.
and a piece of
my
heart.
but it will heal
it
always
heals.

and now.
it's gone
done.
over.
i.
forgive.
you.

now it's your turn.

Monday, December 28, 2009

mockingbird.

trapped.
confined to an ill lined cage
swinging on a lonely perch
watching.
torn.
abused.
lost.
i am a mockingbird.
forever regurgitating
all the words
i have ever heard
not having
a mind of my own
can't speak
can't stand
can't belong.
a mockingbird forever
in a world of
bluejays.

Friday, November 27, 2009

beauty is.

Beauty is the courage to stand
To love one another
To lend a hand

Beauty is the strength to know
When to pull back
And when to go

Beauty is the hope inside
To know who you are
And never to hide

Beauty is being a friend
Someone who cares
From now til the end

Beauty is finding no fear
And holding on tight
To those you find dear

Beauty is outside
But most times it's in
For without inner beauty
You never will win.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

hypocritical.

i can hardly stand
how hypocritical it all is
how
impossibly
hypocritical it all is

who is the one
that is left with the blame?

who is the one that cries?

who runs out of words to explain herself?

who is honestly sick trying.

it is me.
and she is done.