I crave the sun.
I crave the feeling of the heat wrapping my skin in tranquillity
and beams bringing braveness to my being.

So when the clouds crawl across, I wait.
I wait for its smile to creep out from behind the obstruction.

Patience is not my forte
but I wait
because the sun gives me what many cannot.

A warmth that asks for nothing in return.

I cannot compose brilliant poems, sonnets, or verses,

and I cannot speak to you in Latin or Greek;

I cannot move you with any language made up by man.

Love is the only only language I could touch you with

If you only knew how much I could love you.

If you knew I love you;

If I were brave enough to tell you at all.

Death is stalking me.
It watches me play cards,
smoke cigarettes, and
drink beer.
It took my parents, two
brothers, and all my friends.
It got Chris last week.
20 bottles of whiskey in
seven days, I suppose that
would **** anyone.
They found him on the
railroad tracks.
Death is stalking me.
I won't cheat it.
I won't escape it;
but before it gets me,
I bet I finish
this poem.

swish of sheets
and flurries of light,
cotton through fingers
a touch to wet ice.
pillows of white,
slow nights of sleet
call to mine conscience
fond memories to keep.

i hung up my mirror this morning
and i realized
it wasn't my face i saw

not a "pretty girl" anymore
but a woman
the same woman that my mother was
the woman my sisters would be
the woman that i regrettably am.

i saw a person that would no doubt
run from every one of her problems
abandon her life
over and over
until she had nothing left

i saw a face that i had seen in my dreams
in my nightmares
and in life all the same

i took the mirror back down
and broke it

Your now
is not your forever
but
forever
is composed of nows;

A moment
If I could ask for one thing
It would be a moment
To go back to a brief moment
A time where it was simple
Not a thought
Only a feeling
Not a consequence
Only the present

I wish I could go back
And stay there.