Last Monday in May

Violence is never the answer
even when it is the question

Fighting fire with fire
only creates bigger flames

Though sometimes in history
violence has stemmed from war

From not being able to get along
and have a conversation

about difficult subjects
Or things are too complicated

and complex to sort out through words
Therefore we go to war

in hopes that problems can be solved
through fighting our way through

this mess caused by all involved
And others dragged in

the innocent who wanted to stay distant
Everyone who has ever fought in a war

or lost their lives for protecting this country
or risked everything they had for the greater good

Thank you for your service and bravery
your participation and contribution

means so much to all Americans
Our country and our world

would look and feel completely different
if it wasn't for the work you do

You will be remembered
Thank you

III

You begin in a room full of hanging glass

glistening like diamonds 

reflecting the morning yellow sun

finger tips move the glass

creating a sound only glass can make

brokenly beautiful

images flash like an old film

dashing across open fields

where the sky meets the earth

and the grass is too tall to see

it is here you find silence

amongst the sounds of summertime

you're at peace when you're alone

able to catch a breath

taking it all in without distraction

people talking with irrelevant words are not present

the existence of technology fades away

media is a mere thought of "what if"

the sunset turns the sky into a different painting

allowing the transition from day to night

and the appearance of stars in the universe

to seem as natural as a reflection in the mirror

on the walls of old ballrooms 

where romantic dancing took place

people synchronizing their bodies

to the beat of a band playing jazz

the moment was theirs as you can't stop staring

at the dancing or the mirror

how did you move from one place to another

through space and time as effortlessly as a blink 

what all could be but a dream within a dream

the little things, chapter two.

my cat sleeping

feeling pages of old books

organized chaos

familiar smells

my grandmother's stories

fresh baked chocolate chip cookies

reflections in water

twenty minute naps

patti smith

strange dreams that stick with me

books that bring me comfort

books i can relate to

books i cannot relate to

lena dunham

green tea

shade

shadows

smell of sunscreen

cloudy weather

bob dylan

old music

long walks

simple details

admiring flowers

maya angelou

reading

alone

talking

silence

comfort

known is unknown

bookstores

blank television

dead phone

computer turned off

sitting on steps

rain with sunshine

laughter

thoughts

summertime

feet touching wet grass

games i don't care to win

obsessing over something insignificant

heat that melts my soul

sweat from sitting

fans blowing

dance moves

creating stories

arranging words

letting out a breath

the universe

uncertainty

panic

troubling times

past

present

politics

contradictions

speaking the same words on a different day

liars being caught

pants on fire

immaturity

egos
stupid

lessons never learned

history repeats itself

breaking a pattern

seeking something new

divine love

comforting music

beyoncé

star gazing

blankets

lying on a dock

safety

fireworks light up the dark night

warm water

reading a book on a towel

the new yorker

looking for bugs

rain falling down windows

sunshine

fixing mistakes

standing up

marching

age

generations

gender

race

children

adult

elder

east coast

west coast

no coast

it will all be okay

it will all be okay

eventually

remembering the good

in difficult times

simple things

stories shared through generations

familiar sounds

bird's singing

an unorganized room

smelling an old book

my cat's loud meows

chapter one

Lies in Love

What if I told you "I love you"
What would it mean if I lied?

I will not live a lie with you
I will not live a life with you

You deserve better
You don't deserve me

I sit and look at life
I sit and wonder why

Why did I say it?
Why did I speak false words?

They don't match my thoughts.
They don't align with my soul.

Love is said when it's not true.
Love is spoken from me to you.

The day goes by without us saying hi.
The day ends with me saying goodbye.

I walk off into the fading sunset.
I walk away from your blank face.

You said you loved me.
You never loved me.

I tell myself this to feel better.
I tell myself this to feel something.

I said I loved you.
I maybe loved you.

Lies I tell you.
Lies I tell myself.

My feet follow each other.
My soul follows the air.

People laughing from a few blocks away.
People living a life that is not mine.

Am I happy?
Am I content?

Yes.
No.

I smile at small things.
I am dissatisfied with everything.

Love is a feeling rarely felt.
Love is a feeling completely made up.

We were not meant to be.
We were only a memory.

I read to escape.
I read to feel safe.

I do not read romance novels.
I do read real life novels.

The stars come out as the earth falls asleep.
The stars I cannot see though they do comfort me.

Love is what we consume.
Love is what we sell.

The day I broke you heart.
The day I read a book.

Why do I feel the pain?
Why do I feel the same?

I put the book down and begin to cry.
I stain the words with drops from my eyes.

You fell for my lies.
You were sweet and kind.

I will miss small moments with you.
I will miss laughing with you.

What if I told you "I love you"
What would it mean if I lied?

Wandering Girl

She stands in the middle of the open road 
sparkling christmas lights turn into glistening stars 
her mind wandering into memories unknown
her soul looking for a name 
tired of living with no compass 
she desires to create but always stays blank 
unable to color the words she's never known 
freedom is beautiful 
living within the wind of each moment 
living stories with ghost souls 
she will never write them down 
most artists would dream to live her life
creating art every second 
she'll never be more than the muse 
shooting stars put her to sleep 
as she wanders the world 
looking for herself
unable to think of who she is
or who she wants to become 
wanting everything and nothing at the same time 
for no one has ever known her soul 
for she was meant to ride wherever the wind blows
belonging to no one but the ocean waves and mountain views 
her name changes with every soul she encounters 
becoming the sand waves rush over erasing the life
and beginning new wherever she'll go