On the window pane

I sit, and I stare. My feet

send love letters to the speckled

cement below but I wait,

for what I am unsure.

my gaze roams aimlessly

over the melting trees and I wonder-

A raven sits perched on one shoulder;

a crow, on the other, and

together we bow our heads

and in our moment of darkness

I understand what it is I wait for.

You have no bearing on my soul even

if I

or perhaps, it is you?

convince myself otherwise.

I learn

through pain

and confusion, in the little

splinters that pepper beneath my thighs

and surrender tiny kisses,

that I do not live

for you and I do not live

for whatever my imagination may

long for

but to melt

alongside those trees and

to grow among them.

I work

to understand

the way their roots hold hands

beneath the ground in quiet support and

mutual love;

I long for their reaching arms

to hold me tight

and lift me

towards the sky. But I accept

the warning breeze

that the raven

and the crow

will guide me there, one day

and for now

I sit on this window pane.

a cotton candy sky wraps the smiles tickling the corners of our cheeks in a golden haze, and i can’t help but save to memory each moment your radiant eyes catch mine,

even though i shyly look down each time.

grass stained feet stare back at me through a tangle of messy hair and my heart drops each time your velvet lips graze my skin. i gather your hand in mine, leaving a gentle kiss to remind you that my actions speak louder than the words i’m too nervous to say, and

my written story will tell more truth than will ever leave my lips.

my life is heard by many and understood by very few. i hold memories and tears and years

of pain and resentment toward myself and my family

that will never leave my heart or body.

i've learned only recently in my short life that try as i might to live and let go

there is grief and guilt that reside deep within memories

too painful to relive

so i hold my head high and take a deep breath.

i paint a smile back on and only briefly let my fingers touch my cracked lips

as a gentle reminder that the scars i bare

both inside and out

are visible to those who know what i feel and blissfully ignored

by those who know what they see.

my feet dangle in the grass and my face sits delicately between my muddy hands

and to passing traffic i look simply a girl

with her dog but those

brave enough to look me in the eyes

see the fallen tears but those

brave enough to feel my pain

take my weakened hands and i

smile

only to realize

i'm nowhere to be found.

left to ponder

your grace upon

a million days

or

a million more,

my muddled mind

may find no

resolve to the

question that

disquiets my heart.

confusion, in all

it should take me,

gets bundled and

rather lost beneath

the sanctuary and love

I let myself see.

a blade;

forthcoming, it's wicked

gleam dancing

profoundly in the dying light

a sin;

too noble to admit

to any such

meaningful behavior

a thought;

constrained, by appeal

of submitting

to self-preservation

a result;

begging pleas

silenced, by your

concrete heart.

if it weren't for the sway in the trees waving branches i would have believed

i was dead.

maybe just gone, for a short while,

as my mind cycles around the walls that

have no end

no beginning

no explanation for their presence; alas,

they do not move despite my efforts.

the branches wave haphazardly

and i realize, they too

are lost.

i left my empty arms

on the front porch swing

which swings

and creaks

a sad song

when tangled thoughts and

distant limbs

knock on my door.

i stopped answering

when i realized

maybe

sundays aren't meant

for us.

it would be bright.

in a field, somewhere,

where the sun kisses your freckles

leaving constellations

scattered about for me to brush;

gently, with the delicacy

of a butterfly.

time

is

stop

motion;

one, moment at

a

time.

a sunflower peaks over your shoulder

golden, open

glowing

in unison

with your loving

eyes, bright and

faithful.

one moment

at

a time

i fall in love with you.

we

of an abandoned sea

of billowing rose golds

and shimmering pools of moonlight

we

of ragged hearts, of ragged breaths

of ceaseless horizons

and willowed curiosities

we

of escaped minds, escaped thoughts

of fraudulent hearts

and errored nerves

we

of cancerous promises, of

rotten intent.

we

of

ugly

caskets

hounded by torn minds

and misplaced trust. 

Throwing around

ugly words just written in

sophisticated language

does not make your poem

ugly.