Routines

I write best from 5 to 7 am. I eat best at 7:30. I work best from 8 to noon. I eat well until 1 pm. I play piano best from 1 to 4. I work a little less from 4 to 6. I eat lots until 7. I think most in the shower til … Continue reading Routines →

The Sign

(NOTE: This is totally not my usual style of writing. Rather than a poem this is more of...an angry rap. This is also totally not my usual emotion, but I decided to try something new. Here it goes...) Sometimes I get sad and I think of you But then I just get mad that I … Continue reading The Sign →

We scream that we are good people, But we have turned a blind eye To the things that matter most. And we are still blind. Still crawling, still searching, Still scratching at the floorboards Of the dusty attic we claim to know. And once we think we have found Perfection, We gnaw on it, congratulating … Continue reading →

Ignorance to Innocence

Lost again, Lost again, I'm running back To You again. I thought I knew, I thought I knew. But I'm still crawling Back to You. It's difficult To hold my ground To trust that You Are all around, You know my heart, You know my heart. Although I tremble, Fall apart. Falling fast, Falling now. … Continue reading Ignorance to Innocence →

Gritty

People label life As an extreme. Life sucks, life is beautiful, Life isn't fair, life is great. People neglect The in-betweens. The little casualties The flaws in their arguments. Life is not smooth, Nor is it rough. It's something in between. It's gritty.

Revenge of the Poet

He took my free and flowing pen, / Made me use his instead.

Opaque

"I'm a hopeless romantic, I've always been." She scoffs and accepts That love is a sin. "It's nobody, a face I made up myself." She continues to draw, But it's him - you can tell. "I'm writing for fun, it's not a big deal." She closes the journal Still so scared to feel.

Always, And Then Some

Tell me, am I wrong To sift through your old photos To wish I could have seen you With Harry Potter books And braces? Tell me, is it unhealthy To glance at your hand To move mine slightly closer And jump back When they touch? Tell me, am I naïve To smile at small apartments … Continue reading Always, And Then Some →

Fire and Wood

And I still feel sparksEven after knowing youForever.I get a different feelingAround you.It is niceAnd lovely, yesBut also steadySturdySure.I think that is what womenShould feelWith their men.Fathers take holdFathers are strongYet fathers are niceFathers are lovely.I am youngCountless titles await meBefore Mother.But it’s niceAnd lovelyTo feel sturdyAnd strongAround you anyway.