Tag Archives: Expression

Broken Pedestals

Don’t lose sight of the light.
I close both my eyes, but
Leave the third one open-wide.
Absorbing and Transforming,
Life is a canvas already been painted on; which color will you use to highlight the accents?
How many ways can I contrast the madness?
We are often too busy adding structure to the broken pedestals that once seated those you placed highly.
Deceived if depth can’t be seen without views of the horizon.
Still can’t hear me yelling – only seeing me naked.
This one really speaks to me…
Eye can’t teach them to listen.
Splatter paint like emotion wherever I go.
The world is my canvas. I create in the shadows.
Wash that mask, under that mask, beneath the skin.
Peel the flesh back like old pages.
This book is blank just like the canvas.
Invisible ink disguised as experience.
Squeeze the color out my veins, and witness the light ooze through pores.
Decorating the pews they are glued to.
Stained with the truth not illustrated on the glass.
Looking out the window is living in the past.
Breaking that window is living.
I’m breaking my silence how trees uproot sidewalks.
I belong in the street.
Driving myself crazy, playing hide-n-go-seek with self-identity.
Don’t be lazy.
Chasing my tears to the waterfall of my dreams.
Now I’m glowing..
I stay woke.



Writers Block

I understand the meaning behind writers block.

Personally, I’ve discovered my definition.

 I wrote many poems about you, I don’t have much more to say.

My feelings grew deeper for you, but I feel there’s just more I have to say.

I can no longer write these feelings down, not because they’ve gone away…

This writers block is sending me signs, that it’s there more to what I’m trying to relay.

I have eyes that scream affection, and

Ears that hear your love.

My hearts beating my Soul, because it’s just about ready to erupt.

Instead my mind has captured my tongue.

Still I continually try to write and write; my words get lost in thoughts.

Coincidentally my pens run out of ink, and the led ends in my pencils.

You have filled my notebook.

So I’m left with thinking…

With out the creativity to express it, and a place to write it, the only thing left is for you to hear it.

But I’m scared that feelings are to deep, and my words to weak, but I never done this before…

My writers block has temporarily become a block in front of expressing my feelings.

Because I know I Love You.


The High Life

Lately, it’s been feeling like we’re torn apart. Why there’s such distance? That’s a question that’s weighing heavy on my heart.

 I have some things to say; only I struggle with where to start.

 I see your wounds, and I want to heal those scars.

 I want to hear the adventure in your stories, until I discover who you are.

 I feel your love when I’m missing; wondering where am I going.

 What you don’t know is that I’m going to forget names, and forget shames.

And when I go, I leave my feelings at the door.

It’s hard for me to remember the last time you smiled at me; truthfully, I think that’s what hurts the most.

Just because you speak affectionate words, doesn’t mean you have faithful thoughts.

Tonight it kind of hit me while I was praying I would make it to 21 —

 It took 40 oz to consult me.

You said you were concerned about me; that’s when I knew I had to — up and leave.

Sitting in the passenger side thinking to myself, “Why am I still struggling?”

Seems to me the lesson learned is that we all make mistakes.

Yes, I can explain why my eyes are so low, red, and glossy.

It’s because I want a real hug.

Your silence is punishment.


Excuse me.


Signed Seventh,