A poem I won’t finish 

Remember it 

Take the moment 

Wrap it up 

Tie the bow tight 

Don’t loose it 

Getting lost in the shuffle 

Of life 

Of other moments 

Of time 

Of hardship 

Hold onto it firmly 


B. I. T. C. H. 

What I have become. 

Speaking my thoughts, 

Having my feelings heard, 

I’ve become cold-hearted. 

Staying quiet wasn’t helping, 

Neither is voicing what’s inside. 

The truth is better than a lie, 

If the other ears want the honesty. 

Miscommunication and silence, 

Those solve no issues,

Leaving the air heavy won’t make it easy. 

Peaceful words turn into war 

And I’m on the loosing side. 

Biting my tongue, 

Or having a say in the matter, 

I’ve turned into the little “b” 

And have tossed you out like trash. 

Flip the spoon over, 

You get a different perspective. 

Walk a mile in his shoes, they say, 

Wear your heart on your sleeve, 

Don’t be surprised when it’s hijacked. 

People don’t always want you to succeed. 

As a result, I’m the beast. 

It’s Wet Outside 

First there was thunder 

Then a curtain of rain 

Feet racing inside 

Warming under blankets 


Pitter, patter 










Washing the streets 

Fillings plants’ cups 

Soaking into fabric 

Friction becomes slippery 

Drip, splash 

Drop, splash 









Some souls grumble 

They see no fun 

Jackets and boots slip on 

Rain rain go away 

Morning Coffee

My thoughts are like the steam 

Floating atop the mug 

The taste of mixing cream and beans 

Letting the morning develope snug 

You walk in the room innocently 

Night’s sleep wearing off slow 

Steam and thoughts have fanned out 

You lean across me on your elbow 

I take a sip of the warm coffee 

A sudden smile occurred 

Earning one in return 

Willing the day to go unstirred 

The best part of waking up 

Is getting another day with you 

We don’t even need to speak 

To hear what we already knew 


I can feel it 

Sinking its teeth into my flesh 

Grabbing hold for dear life 

Expanding a void with more emptiness 

Dripping venomous lies into my veins 

Slashing claws against my heart 

What is It you ask 

Small World

A girl flashes by

I can hardly catch a glimpse

Bright blonde hair

Maybe a purple scarf?


A young boy trips

Shoelaces unravel suddenly

His mother helps him up

Tightens knots to hold his feet in


“No, I said I’d be there at 6”

Frustrated voices intermix through a phone

I avoid too much staring in his direction

“I’ll be on my way” after a groan


Some girls laugh loudly

Taking pictures and sharing compliments

One sips at her icy drink

Thumbs tap quickly across the thin screen


A boy fixated on his computer

Typing like the due date is now

He takes a big gulp of a large to-go cup

Combs his fingers through his unkept hair


Wonder where they’re from..

Why was he so rude to a stranger?

She could use more than a shot of espresso

How did we all decide to start our day so differently,

And yet, meet at common ground