The ramblings of a hopelessly hopeful romantic.

The Only Moment

We feasted, and we laughed. The skies opened up, and then stitched itself back together. We stepped outside into the clean air. We sat on the swing and the world moved beneath our feet as we were lifted up into the air. The moon watched us as we ran into the garden. You told me to let go of my premonitions, and I lost your coat. We talked with the flowers, we got lost, and found ourselves again. We let everything go. We saw the color spectrums, we were one with the heavens; like the gods swearing an oath to the almighty skies, as the lightning crashed around us. Everything was nothing. Our minds were a blank canvas, free for us to paint with all of the beauty and ideas we could ever imagine. we were one with the trees, we danced with each other, we rolled in the dirt. We tore down all the layers, the pretenses. Everything is an add on, just different levels existing at the same time. Everyone is us, and none of it matters. You helped me find my voice. We were infinite. I floated right out of my shoes, and we did somersaults in the orchard. We were one. The primitive power of expression, the ache that is your beauty, the knowledge that you are the better part of me. Our flow; there’s something in the way you move. Everything disappeared. We were pirates braving the storm across a vast ocean. We figured it all out; the vast circle that is the universe, the eb and flow,howeverything comes back around one and the same. There is no point, but we decided the purpose could be to create your own. We yelled to the stars how strong our love was, and how much we couldn’t stand each other. We saw the power of separation held in a room, and the freedom of the openness. We felt the creeping sensation of death and love. The mirror changed myself. Give and take. We defied each other, because we can. We stood up, and went and fetched the sun. You gave me the sunrise. We breathed with the earth, and watched the world come to life. We slept, we wept. It was everything. It was nothing. It was us, it was consciousness, it was perfect.

Flowers

You’ve got flowers in your hair
And flowers in your mind
There’s flowers in your field,
And flowers in your time

It’s spring, not summer

It was naive
To leave
My jacket at home
But my chilly arms inspired this poem

You won’t find what you’re looking for

At the bottom of a bottle
At the bottom of your newsfeed scroll
At the bottom of a wishing well
You can find it
In the depths of your soul
In the back of your mind
In the confines of your heart

Looking through who?

She had this way of looking through people
Like they weren’t even there
Or maybe she was the one
Who was never there at all

A morning, off kilter

I got two-ish hours of sleep
And had soup for breakfast
And watched a crow feed another crow some dorito chip
From the kitchen window

I just

I don’t want to change the world,
I just want to change your heart.

Poems unwritten from the core of the psyche

The poems that slumber deep within my soul
The ones that give the deepest meaning to my life
Are the ones I’m most terrified to write
Would it be too much to see
My greatest triumphs
And most painful letdowns
Sprawled plainly, simply
Across the page
The anticlimax of a lifetime
Would it destroy me to know how easily
My essence could be captured
In just a few lines of free verse?
Would it set me free?