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FlashBangs

Supposedly When our bodies die Our life will pass Before our eyes The flash bangs of our lives Hold no reason Only rhyme And I know what will cross Before mine Glints of other people’s luminescence Photographic flashes Electrical, spiritual and psychic connections  Spanning centuries and continents  Sometimes you don’t realize  You are the flash in someone else’s mind We all just become light in the end Some of us are just brighter than others 
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Shadowed

I have danced In many different shadows Seen what darkness looks like Nothing in the depths Scares me But if all we do is shadow One another There will never be any fresh light To filter in 
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Fistula

I was given so much crap to digest My body had to make itself Another exist To get rid of all the shit I have been fed It’s true Go ahead Look up what a fistula is
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Matching PJs

It’s almost that time again When starry eyed couples  Find a dusk lit sunflower field  A well aged apple orchard Or a romantic pumpkin patch Packed full of pomp and promise But the most ostentatious pageantry  Of them all Can be found When it’s time to put on Those illusory fragments of fabric  Meant to convey the truest of love Matching pajamas  Dreadfully beautiful delusions Dressed to impress
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Moon Magic (Yes it’s another poem about the moon)

The moon At 9:00 in the morning Is not necessary Still somehow it is always there Twinkling with the stars The sun does not need the moon To shine They only balance one another Across the universe  Distance never weakening the bond They are simply two magicians  With the natural ability To attract
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Inanimate

Inanimate relationships Are what work best for me I send love to the unreachable The impossible Men so far out of my league It’s unreasonable  Because it is safer If I hold all the responsibility  I’d much rather hurt myself Than have someone else do it That way If I end up broken hearted The only one I have to blame for it Is myself My heart is mine for the crushing  If things start to feel too real  Too animated I’ll throw that grenade as far as I can Before it blows up in my face
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Gardening Secret

I am oceanic The trenches my mind can reach Have not yet been discovered or studied I will forever be the woman  That says too much Feels too much Loves too much  Thinks too much Cries too much On that note It is a good thing I am my prettiest when I cry This week I am pushing supermodel level I take care of my flowers  Wondering If it’s the water from the hose  Or the fertilizer of my tears That nourishes them the most   They bloom from my sorrow It is why my flowers are seemingly endless The secret to my garden is sadness
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