growing pains

the flower bent

beneath the wind and tears

fell from its stem,

it didn’t know it then

but those silver drops were

what lifted its spine

and stretched its yellow palms

to the sky.

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blame game

hanging on to a thread 

that i created,

lowering myself into the pits

that i lit the fire to.

it’s a game of how much damage

i can cause and how much blame 

i’ll take for it.

my constant company

a poet like me never gets lonely;

i have my words to caresss my lips

and my thoughts to hug me tight;

no i am never lonely,

not with my turtleneck warming my chest

and my heart beating as a constant drum of my extradorinary life.

my company lays inside,

my words

my heart

my thoughts;

oh how i am loved.

Paris is a dream 

take me to Paris

so i can butcher beautiful words and mimic foreign accents

and drink incredibly expensive coffee

and pretend i like tea at 3 in the afternoon.

i will walk around while simultaneously falling in love with the romance language subliminally spoken 

all around.

take me to Paris

so that i can take in the overwhelming scent of

freshly printed poems and bakery goods and cry because 

this city,

is truly,

alive.