There’s something with words,

The way they blend,

The way they sound,

The way I can change and play and mix,

Without care that it will turn out wrong,

Words were the first path,

They leapt from the page,

And became alive,

Tangible finally.


Write for you

If there is anything I have learned,

Through writing, through reading,

Is that detail doesn’t matter,

Where you place or how you use,

Plot points, words, paragraphs,

Doesn’t matter,

The reader can be confused,

But let me say this,

The simple ones often win,

As long as the meaning strikes,

The imagery is there,

And when all elements are in place,

When you think you’ve done enough,

It’s enough.


It’s not your fault the reader couldn’t see.


On the edge

One jump to nothingness, so I fly

I stare at the same screen,

Hoping for something, 

Anything to spark a post, 


And so this is the edge, 

Of poetry to nothing, 

From writing to the abyss that opens, 

Waiting for a failure, 

Yet I do not want to jump, 

And so I fly, 

With this post about nothing, 

I am stuck on the edge

True Love

You wake me,

And I wake you,

Deep down we both know,

That we were meant to be,

We can stop at the “friend” title,

That we give ourselves,

Because we both know,

We are closer now,

To each other,

Day and night,

I know,

That love is the answer,

But I can’t bring myself to say it,

Not when you’re around.

~For all those who can’t love who they want to love~