Notice

This is just to let you know I'm posting more on my tumblr, hope-of-a-burning-dawn. This blog isn't dead though, I'm not abandoning it, but more and better poetry is going to be found on my tumblr. Thanks for reading! Go out and know you're awesome!

brought to you by the letter L

listen to the leaves lifting and littering listen to the lives lived and loved listen to the lilies lovely and leaning listen to the life, the light, the love. life listing, laughing, latching launching to the lights in the sky, leaping into liquids lapping at land life. it is laced with labels and lacking and …

connections

cinnamon rolls are Valentine's day. everyone had someone, and my dad gave me a smile. so he bought me roses, and took me to get a cinnamon roll. cinnamon rolls, mean I meant something. ~•○•~ white hot chocolate is comfort. in the midst of a half-miserable adventure, sweet cream met my lips in a gentle …

a letter to one not quite forgotten

dear friend, it's been such a long time since we spoke. I try to put you out of mind most days, as I'm told it's healthier that way. happy eighteenth birthday, by the way. I hope it treats you well. 365 days ago. so small in all, it's hard to believe how much can change. …

Death’s Got Nothin’ On Me

when fingers twitch and shadows meet, and this poison whispers of deceit, so it falls, this broken wall, these demons and the blood they beat. a flinch a twitch to switch a mind spoken to one broken. I speak they meet defeat as they shatter on the floor. they cry for mercy from a mocking …

thoughts on the nature of humanity

i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i can't i …

Dear Mama

sequel to "I'm Sorry, Mama (Rice Pudding)" dear Mama, I never understood why everyone wanted an eternal family. they would always assure me that it was because of who you married, the family you made for yourself. but for me, everything about "family" was messy and only something to escape from. My own mother felt …

the soldier’s leg and the student’s mind

a soldier's lower leg was broken. not even broken, shattered. no amount of bandages, of time, of healing, would change that. any motion would cut him up inside, and he would bleed out. his own body would kill him.  I took him to the church doctor, as it was a hard wound to bear, and …

this morn of winter-tide

could it be a painting, written in our hearts? or could it be a feeling, where we forget our parts? I remember predecessors to the winter's woe, burned within our minds, and trapped within our words. the golden glow of memories, when the last are oft to fade. would it be so spoken, with nothing …

honesty (true friend)

the philosopher: his mind works like a machine, a mathematical equation for the world shifting and changing at the arrival of a new point of view. he's in my memory where years have buried, he's in my heart despite the part. with him my mind can LEARN change. but honesty does not come smoothly, fearing …