Whispers

behind cupped hands, curled

to catch all the secrets

swimming between lips and ears,

They burn hot against my back

Whether its a stray gaze

Or a giggle cast

I pretend not to notice

But it eats

Away

At my sanity

Maybe it was accidental,

A coincidence, a slip of hand

Maybe I'm paranoid, going

out of my mind

Maybe I'm jealous,

seeking attention

But then again, why would it be? 

A poem for National Poetry-Writing Month:

The sunset is golden

It fades away…

Over the rhythmic

Ocean waves

The night is now

Painting the scene

Darkness falls

The stars gleam

The moon glows

A circle of white

An ethereal and ever

Breathtaking sight

The clock is broken 

The world is opening its doors

—It's time for the great debutante—

And yet I feel lonlier than ever before.

I have been alone more,

I have had less faces stored in my

Scrolling database of 'friends'

I have had fewer kind words

Spread over me like butter sealing,

The lacquer to finish off my wooden heart.

And yet I am lonlier than ever before. 

Forget social media, friendly smiles

And small-talk.

I am still lonlier than ever. 

I think

what little thought 

it must take

to simply

erase away

a meaning.

To press delete,

to wipe away an answer

To simply pretend

Something never existed

but to trust it did.

I think

I have not enough Determination

to carve into an intangible

mind and heart

those lost words

which coolly fade

into oblivion. 

When I listen to you

My throat is crushed,

Lungs burnt beyond recognition.

I can hardly

breath

for fear of breaking

the image you paint

out of notes on

tearstained pages,

scribbled over in guitar riffs

and the shards of a broken heart.

Your voice breaks me

in a way flesh and bone

could never comprehend,

and your stagelights

slash across me

drawing blood until I turn faint.

But I don't collapse,

because that's who I am

and you're on the ground,

because that's who you are.

But they'll continue

living happily

ever after.

Unable

to understand.

_____I'd forfeit

my heart

my world

my life

_____to you

_____but

it'd break

it'd burn 

it'd end

_____if I did

_____so I let

it shatter

it smoulder

it fade

_____until 

_____all that's left is dust

_____and memories.

Of you. 

My wings ache

un entropy

trapped in this glass box

I'm confined to.

The only thing that holds me back

is this cage

you do not call a cage

(for even the barest of cages

holds bars, which I could beat

to create music)

and even of that I am deprived.

You call it a break,

I call it confinement;

You call it peace,

I call it a silent torment.

We each sit upon a pair

of completely divorced realities—

you, of your own freewill,

and me, a slave tethered to yours. 

my National Poetry Writing Month poem based on prompt:

Being a Tree

I think that I’d like to be

Purely and simply, a tree.

A tree is in harmony

With nature, and willingly

Houses creatures of all,

Welcoming them big or small.

Trees bring color to gray—

Especially in fall, as they say,

Donning on a sunset gown,

Before shedding it all around.

Then like icing on cake, snow

Drifts on for all to know:

A tree shows the beauty of

Nature and her nurturing love.

And I think I’d really like to be

A part of that—by being a tree.

inspired by Moon Wolf~ this is unedited from today's NaPoWriMo prompt. let's hope the formatting is ok...

in my next life I want to be a cloud

I’d smile and

my laugh would conjure crackling energy, water 

vapor just waiting to

explode. lightning, enlightening,

the moisture is hair-raising,

free-floating, cresting, crashing, searching,

oceanic. titanic. the tang of salt and pepper and open sesame seeds. dreams

unfurling like wallflowers after blooming through the sidewalk cracks, pointed

to the sun through my thunderous guise. I don’t

resent the attempt to see past me, the

subtle strength in overcoming omniscience. my

fantasies connect heaven and earth, I desire

nothing mortal but the existential wonder that comes from

looking up,

up into the sky and past the clouds, and I

cry tears creating lakes, because isn’t it 

beautiful that even sorrow can build the horizon?

Something that I could never accomplish

Flying with the wind in my past

And the sun lighting my future

Flying with the eagles

I could never compare

To beacones overflowing

With confidence

Why focus on

Moving forward

When you can

Lift your feet

Off the ground

Into the heavens?

Why focus on

Looking down

When you can learn 

To see beyond the

Walls of society? 

Why focus on yourself

When there are greater beings?

So you want to learn how to fly?

First you have to know the truth

To slip into another dimension

Another plane of consciousness

Because ours is too limiting

To fly with the eagles

Like I'm supposed to

Be someone else

"Why is your

Name so weird"

I can hear

Your thoughts

Clearly.

You look me

Up and down

Jugement.

Like I'm supposed to

Be someone

Else.

And I'm the only one

You don't juge

The colored folk

With names that 

"Aren't American"

Because you

Expect.

That just because

I'm white

I will have a

"Normal" name 

Like "Mary"

Or "Elizabeth"

Guess what?

I don't.

And I'm

Proud.

Of who I am.

And my

Culture. 

Guess what?

I don't wish

I had blonde hair

Or a last name

Like "Smith"

Or "Jones"

Guess what?

I'm not

Embarrassed.

By my loud

Family.

Talking rapidly

In another

Language.

Guess what?

I love the

Smell

Of my traditional

Food.

That my classmates

Can't even pronounce

Guess what?

Just because

I'm white 

Doesn't mean

I have lost my

Culture.