Flight Risk

She held life in her
hands
as if it were a delicate eggshell.

Ready to break with a
gust of wind.
It was wearing blue like the sky
when really, she wanted to fly.

The life she nurtured weighted her down,
chained her with
mouths to be fed,
hands to hold.

Its vulnerability gave it power
Its sweet sounds have it a voice
But really, she wanted to fly.

Holding her own life in her hands
the night she decided to jump
from her nest.
She fell pinned to the ground,
cradling blue in
her hands.

Love is a Game

This is a piece I found that I wrote back in November:

Crying for help is like a silent plea.

Resonating deeply within her, day in and day out.

Cold and heavy; weighing her down.

Emptiness fills her up

Like a fire

He feeds the flame with selfish games.

Pulling UP and under

Each day becomes a fight from him.


Pain is bittersweet

with a rough tenderness.

She loves his

pretend love.

But dies at the sight

Of mere board game pieces.

None of it is real,

But herself and how she feels.

Error(poem before)

The words in in "Beauty" that are vertical were supposed to be tapered but everything i went to publish the post the website changed it!

Beauty has no name

make way for Beauty
she turns heads
and
trips over smiles
stumbles over words
and
keeps close to awkward timing

what is it that i see,
and you
our easily manipulated
b
l
a
c
k
& white
clay world
doesnt?

i've heard that Beauty
is in the eye of the beholder.

but should not everything have
Beauty in it?

dancing and singing
laughing and playing
her record plays the same
s
o
n
g
s

now,
dont get me wrong,
i see what you see

but through different eyes.

eyes that to me,
turn wilting roses
into
e
v
e
r
l
a
s
t
i
n
g
dried memories,
turn black and white
into depth& perception

and rain,
into a replenished sky

Beauty has no definition
no look
no sound
no smell

Beauty is the
k
i
l
t
e
r
e
d
masterpiece

in all.

New Years Resolution

Every year it's the same thing, the next step, the flow of a pattern. To make new year resolutions, or promises that wont be kept;will be soon forgotten until the next year rolls around again.

Why are we constantly making excuses for ourselves? It's not shunned to push resolutions the the back burner, its kind of like their unnameable purpose. Yet it's looked down upon to be lazy and unwilling to accomplish things. It's in a way ironic, and in another way hypocritical that once a year we have the silent right to make ourselves seen bigger than we are and never follow through.

Should we not be living everyday with goals we want to accomplish? So that they are always in our minds,soon engraved... Not just muscle memory.We need to persue life with ferver and the want to finish what we set out to do. " Goals should simply be our dreams with a deadline."