Insomnia I lay on my back with my eyes to the stars in hope that sleep will come, Yet nothing's here My head's abuzz, my thoughts a constant drum Why can't I sleep? I lay awake, my eyes facing the stars The#moonstares back yet I'm alone, A yearn for nears and fars Like staring through the bars Why can't I sleep? Am I awake? The world at rest? Why can't I fall sleep? I drown in seas of wandering thoughts A diver that has swum a bit too deep Am I insane? No way to feign The thoughts fall down like silver rain There's way too many dreams for me to reap Too many secrets I am meant to keep It's all a mess of words inside my mind And only just a few of them are kind I lay awake I face the stars The witness to my many wars It's all it takes Of faith; A leap For me to finally fall asleep?

Inked Skin Imagine if words appeared on your skin, Every sound uttered tottooed from within, If every said sentence you couldn't take back, Swirled up and down like walls with a crack Your favorite song lyrics adorning your frame, A heart-broken #poem's unetchable stain. If somehow your voice was a powerful ink, Your skin the best paper to carve what you think, Say if you'd choose your words with a care, When all of your vowels were new scars to bear, A curse or a blessing, forever carved skin Eternally marked by your grace, or your sin Now, imagine if words appeared on your skin, How many "I love you"s there'd be to be seen? Imagine if you were your author, the pen, And you made immortal a poet's what, when Of all of the questions, the answers, the doubts, The mutters, the whispers, the sobs and the shouts, Of all the of the people, of ever word said, You'd still be my favorite book to be read.

Washed Up Prodigy I could tell you the first fifty digits of pi, How many muscles are found in your eye, Or tell you the area of any squared state Too bad none of this will get me a date I'll list all the currencies used in the globe, Or all the nerve endings in your frontal right lobe, Recite you a #poem in languages dead, Yet none of these'll get me a woman in bed. I've read very foot note, seen every annex I simply don't know of the opposite sex, Perhaps it's the glasses— or maybe the shirt, Plaid is a killer when looking to flirt. I could write a Theorem, and live by the par, Though I don't think numbers would get me too far.. I might do some push ups, or pull-ups, or squats... And die all alone with my books and my cats. *inspired on John Green's "An abundance of Katherine's"

Of Ankles And Stairs Stairs have always been such an itch Yet not enough to make me twitch 'Til my sister's graceful pratfall Which kind of broke her ankle So gather 'round 'cause I've become her bit-

Playground Behind the broken door Where no one spares a second's glance Where memories come with thoughts to dance Behind the broken door. Behind the shattered glass Where lights distorts the date and time Where words are forged into a rhyme Behind the shattered glass Amongst the fallen leaf The one that jumps only to fly, That sheds no tear, says no goodbye Amongst the fallen leaf, And under cloudy stars Where days are ageless, made of glass Where smiles are made from sorrows passed And under cloudy stars Behind the door and shattered glass, Amongst the fallen leafs and stars Is where us writers come to play To write what sounds can't start to say. #beginningline