Hello, and it is a pleasure to meet you. I often feel like I don't just write poetry, that it writes me. I think in prose or I think in panic, because life is so beautiful and felt in such intense ways. I need to write like I need sleep, it restores me. So that is me, maybe I'll find more to write later
Observations Outside, a doe passes by, but runs away. It was scared that I would kill it when I only wanted to save it's scarred body. And I was confused. Until I realized I was holding my cigarette, Wanting it to save my scarred body, Yet it's killing me.
Ceiling Molds Ceiling molds to concrete plates, The napkins we fold just to relate, Or just to find a buzzing bumblebee, And a humbled me, The sneakers pounding brass pedals and wooden floors, Fingers on keys, my eyes on yours A rocking chair, An impending end, The summer air That is a friend
Dark Spirals Something lies In my own demise The cutting of time Of your #life and in your prime The reach arms to the trees, And trees to the clouds, And giant is sky Where stars splatter and#moonseeps light Into the night In to the end Of days and weeks and months we lend To each foot we place I know to much about the race So I may not win Again my twin, So different, All the same, And the blisters of my game remains
