Don’t box me in

Except the unexpected

because I'm bursting with ideas

and I'm going to do it all.

 

So insanely talented,

yet terrified to do anything,

destined to be nothing

but a frustrated artist

too busy watching Youtube

scrolling Instagram and playing

Candy Crush,

brainwashed into wasting time.

 

Soul crushed by comparison.

Why bother trying when

is it all taken away from you in the end?

The same blood

You can be red raw and still sing your song.

You can have tears in your eyes and still tell your story.

The truth is where the tale lies.

You cannot or should not wait to share it.

The emotion will help you to connect to others.

Because everyone can see you

understand and communicate

with feelings.

So don’t be afraid to bleed onto the page

we all have the same blood in our veins.

Blew you a kiss

I blew you a kiss even though I wanted to give you a real one.

I turned around and walked away.

Heartbroken.

I wish you’d followed me.

 

I never wanted to hurt you, but I think I did.

I was so stupid and naive, I never saw you.

Actually I thought you didn’t like me.

It is frightening to bare your heart,

declare your feelings.

 Most people are afraid

when it comes to big feelings.

Was I really that intimidating?

Couldn’t you have said something.

Why was I so blind?

Why did I have to fuck up my life so much? 

Now we are so far from one another.

I don’t know if I can pull myself out of the hole I’ve dug.

I need to get out of this pit because no one is coming to rescue me.

And you don’t even know how much I ache for you.

I’m surely damned.


Deceptively Delicate

Poetry is deceptively delicate

it's a whisper which gradually becomes a scream

a dream turning into a nightmare

which stays with you all-day

a compliment transformed into an insult

subtle niceties and manners on the

surface while being sarcastic and real below.

 

It is the truth, leaking out

of the heart despite itself.

The beat of a constant drum

below the flourishes of what we

create for ourselves.

Subversive, not submissive

honest razor-sharp observation

its words are strength,

they can be deadly.

Thank the muse for bringing the light

of poetry, into a tenebrous world.


I see

I see right through you

and into your wild madness

like a transparent teardrop

a bubble that bursts and dissipates

trickling down my leg

and into the ground

drying up in the sun

an anticlimax, all but forgotten.


Nightmare

I dreamt of two thick red devils

with grotesque heads

who were at the edge of hell

one was eating a baby

the others throbbing penis

dragging on the ground

they were babbling to one another

I knew I was in hell

I was so sad

I did not know what to do

I was being tortured for my sins.


Still here

Love is still here for you

as I light a candle

in front

of your photo

 

I remember how your grandson and I

smothered you with hugs and kisses

the last time we said goodbye

 

Our love for you remains

here suspended in the air

you are intertwined in these

three words.