An informal catalog of my emotions.

Poetry book (maybe) coming soon..

January 2018

White Shell

I hope you find what you’re looking for,

whatever it may be.

Whether it be a small flower in the woods,

or a white shell along the sea.

I hope it’s not too hard to find,

whatever it may be.

I hope it brings you peace and joy,

and reminds you of a fond memory.

Although I can’t help you find what you’re looking for,

whatever it may be,

I hope it makes you smile awhile,

and reminds you of me.

February 2018


I pray you learn to walk again,

to stand up on your own two feet.

I pray God will help you, brings you peace,

and teaches you the right words to speak.

I pray he teaches you the kindness of words,

and the comfort of trusted eyes.

How sometimes life’s lessons aren’t what we think,

but instead are lessons in disguise.

And although it might take you sometime this time,

to stand up on your own two feet.

I pray the life lessons you learned this time,

for all time,

will be those you carry and speak.

February 2018


Here I am and it’s 12:45am,

and I’m trying to write a poem about life.

It’s not going to be happy,

it’s not going to be sad,

it’s going to be about how this timing is right.

How these blankets feel warm resting against my skin,

and how my eyes are squinting at this screen.

How everything around me is completely pitch black,

and yet,

this is the clearest I’ve thought in a while it seems.


I meant to write a poem about life,

and now you’re wondering–

I don’t get it, so what’s the meaning?


if you’re reading this poem,

and searching for the meaning of that something,

what’s the thing that gives you a 12:45am feeling?

February 2018

Fire and Fury

Here lies a story of a man and a woman,

bound by string and love and lust.

There not once was a day that went by they can recall,

that they’d forgotten each other,

no not once.

For the love that had bound them was made of silver and gold,

and the string of fire and fury.

And although they’d be gone for a time,

this time–

He was her Saturn; Her his Mercury.

February 2018

Between Our Thoughts and The Sky Above Us

There is a space,

well beyond the confines of your heart.

It lies between your thoughts

and the sky above you.

A place that no person can say they have been,

but every person who’s been lost can find.

It’s filled with heartbreak and pain,

joy and laughter.

It stores the stories we’ve shared with loved ones,

and stories we’ve kept hidden from the world.

In this space where no one has been,

but every lost person can find,

lies the stories we know of but won’t speak.

The untouchable words,

our truths.

February 2018

Sad Poetry

My mother tells me,

I used to write sad poetry,

and how it made her think.

Of what could’ve happened,

who I had met,

that would make me write of such things.

But I remember it quite differently,

how I came about sad poetry,

how the words just use to slip out.

How there was no source of sadness,

just words that would flow,


and kindly,

out of my mouth.

March 2018


Love isn’t a foreign thing,

we all know it exists.

But it’s like we keep it foreign to protect ourselves–

Keep it within our reasoning,

keep it dismissed.

March 2018


We build barriers to keep ourselves protected,

to keep foreign objects out.

And sometimes in the midst of building protection,

we forget we also need a way out.

For the stones we learn to build with,

could be those that start to fall.

They could wither, they could fade,

and before we know it,

we have no wall.

March 2018

Meadow of Memories

There is a meadow with pink and yellow flowers–

I’m standing in the middle,

in the grass.

There are clouds in the sky

and woods all around,

and I’m staring into the horizon,

bright and vast.

There are no birds in the sky,

there is no one in sight–

in fact,

you can’t hear a single sound.

But here in this meadow,

with pink and yellow flowers,

are where memories of us can be found.

March 2018


I normally get lost in other people’s realms,

in their hopes,


and desires.

I start to forget my essence in life,

and begin to fuel their fires.

It’s natural for me,

to lose myself in people,

and to make sure they are okay.

But sometimes I get lost,

and forget myself completely,

in an effort to comfort them and stay.

I wonder why God made me like this,

how I can be so giving but feel numb at times.

Is there no one who wants the same for me and my fire?

To build with me,

and be mine?

March 2018

Detailed Scars

Because here I am,

and there you are.

With our stories,

and scriptures,

and detailed scars.

The space between us,

isn’t quite as far,

as they say the sun is,

from it’s closest star.

We’re built of galaxies,

and star dust

and memories in time.

And our lives tell the oldest love story:

of how I am yours,

and you are mine.

June 2018


It’s hard to say goodbye to people we love,

especially when we’re not sure when we’ll see them again.

The moment they leave and we’re standing alone,

we feel like we’ve lost them–

like we lost a good friend.

We all know,

a good friend isn’t easy to come by at times–

Our good friends are our timeless collections,

our homes.

For how can we say goodbye to our beds and our clothes,

and to the fireplaces that keep us warm?

July 2018


My love for you will be everlasting,

and I’m sure now it will never fade.

We’ve been through hell,

and high water,

and here I am feeling the same.

Maybe this love was always meant to be everlasting,

and understanding,

patient and kind.

Even when we aren’t together,

at a distance–

we’ll know each other exists,

still have each other on mind.

I wouldn’t give up a day we had,

even if someone asked me otherwise.

It was beautiful,




This is love everlasting and the best thing I’ve known,

the best of it’s kind.

July 2018


When I was younger,

at night my father and I,

would lay in bed,

and watch the planes go by.

We would watch as the stars shimmered

and shined.

We would lay in my bed and watch the planes go by–

talk about the strangers,

and their stories,

at the windows and aisles.

We wondered what secrets they held inside.

As they sat in their seats,

as the planes went by.

August 2018


I’m yearning to write poetry here in this moment,

but all I can write are these words on this page.

It’s not much,

it has no meaning,

but here I am still writing–


October 2018

Fishbowl Train Balloon

There are those that believe life is like a fishbowl.

Nowhere to really escape to, just a bowl full of limited adventures.

Where more water can be added, but by who?

Then there are those that believe life is like a train.

Set on a track, headed in one direction constantly, on a continuous circle; an illusion with no end in sight,

chained strictly to the ground.

And then there are those that believe life is like a balloon.

Where there are no limits; an everlasting space of adventure and infinite realms.

Darkness present everywhere, with hope twinkling in the distance.

Finally, there are those that believe life is like a tree.

Planted firmly like a train, growing,

moving outwards and upwards like a balloon,

fluid and in need of water like a fishbowl.

December 2018

Rocky Waters

Young girl,

Oh how your heart is filled with so much emotion.

As deep and wide as the ocean.

How you feel so much and so deeply.

Your soul takes on the form of waves,

Crashing heavily upon your mind, heart and eyes when things go awry.

When reflections remind you of hard times.

How you wish the sun to start shining again.

For your soul to calm.

For your island,

To come into gaze.

April 2019


The AC is running,

I can feel the drift against my legs.

Summer is near.

July 2019


Sometimes I think too much,

Sometimes I feel too much.

I’ll be walking down the street,

And all of a sudden I find myself

wondering down a different road then the

road I’m actually on.

You know?

The one you can’t see,

But always seem to find yourself

wandering down again and again.

You see the same stop signs,

The same street signs,

The same cracks in the sidewalk.

You realize nothing ever really changes


You’ll only ever be the only one to walk

down this all too familiar road.

So why do you keep returning, expecting

something to change..?

July 2019

No title

How do you feel right now?

July 2019

I Don’t Think I’ll Meet You

I don’t think I’ll meet you where I think I’ll meet you.

I think I’ll meet you when I least expect it.

Doing something very normal and very me.

And then there you’ll be.

July 2019

Unconditional Love

Unconditional love

is reserved for a mother and her child.

It’s not something you receive from your romantic partner.

August 2019

Two Worlds

I feel my world is town in two,

Split between my mind and heart-

My heart belongs in a small town home,

And my head wants a big city start.

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