You make me beautiful,
Like I'm a naked model for your heart to paint
A picture of on a canvas.
Show it to me,
And I smile.
You bring out the best in me,
Like the paint is on my skin,
Highlighting my features.
You make my face glow and my heart sing
Like adding rosin to my cello's bow,
You make my strings sing more fully,
Louder, and more confidently.
Your camera shutter reveals the hidden me
Which I really only want to share with you
Because I trust you.
Save those images in your mind,
Because you're on mine.
November 24 2011
I want to be with you and watch the sun rise
The airy purples and blues lighting the sky and your eyes
As we stand side by side.
The air is chilled
But I'm not cold.
My heart is warm knowing the truth of love and life.
I want to be beside you always
I want to adventure with you,
Putting the inherent magic of the world
Before jobs or schools
I want to run with you
Through thick fields of cotton,
The fabric that makes up our lives
And dictates how we present ourselves
I want to weave time and space with you.
I want to sit with you
In rivers thick with gold
And silver nuggets
And see the sky light your eyes
Your eyes wrinkl
On Happiness: The point of life and other ways I learned to love myself.
I've never read a self-help book. I've never enjoyed going to therapy, talking about my feelings, or "sharing" myself with people. The idea of opening up and talking to people about my anxiety and fears has caused me to shake and cry long hours in my bedroom by myself. How is it that a year ago from this day, I was cutting, was overwhelmed with anxiety attacks, and couldn't make a real connection with the person who I thought I loved? And how is it that a year in the future, now, that all has changed? I'm not sure what made it all happen, but it might have started wit
Figures, like silhouetted statues standing forever frozen
On frigid forgotten beaches,
Playing in the Pacific as if it's 104 degrees outside,
My temperature, a coincidence,
As I drive down the 101.
These statues, ever never moving.
And who am I to judge?
My fever rises as they
Continue to move in
No direction.
It's 50 out today,
And these statues keep appearing,
Specks on the mouth of the ocean,
Standing in water that must be too cold for them.
How, why do they do it? Why do they play in water that is too cold for their
Fragile frames?
Reminds me that my temperature is rising.
It isn't easy to figure out,
These words, these
You make me beautiful,
Like I'm a naked model for your heart to paint
A picture of on a canvas.
Show it to me,
And I smile.
You bring out the best in me,
Like the paint is on my skin,
Highlighting my features.
You make my face glow and my heart sing
Like adding rosin to my cello's bow,
You make my strings sing more fully,
Louder, and more confidently.
Your camera shutter reveals the hidden me
Which I really only want to share with you
Because I trust you.
Save those images in your mind,
Because you're on mine.
November 24 2011
I want to be with you and watch the sun rise
The airy purples and blues lighting the sky and your eyes
As we stand side by side.
The air is chilled
But I'm not cold.
My heart is warm knowing the truth of love and life.
I want to be beside you always
I want to adventure with you,
Putting the inherent magic of the world
Before jobs or schools
I want to run with you
Through thick fields of cotton,
The fabric that makes up our lives
And dictates how we present ourselves
I want to weave time and space with you.
I want to sit with you
In rivers thick with gold
And silver nuggets
And see the sky light your eyes
Your eyes wrinkl
On Happiness: The point of life and other ways I learned to love myself.
I've never read a self-help book. I've never enjoyed going to therapy, talking about my feelings, or "sharing" myself with people. The idea of opening up and talking to people about my anxiety and fears has caused me to shake and cry long hours in my bedroom by myself. How is it that a year ago from this day, I was cutting, was overwhelmed with anxiety attacks, and couldn't make a real connection with the person who I thought I loved? And how is it that a year in the future, now, that all has changed? I'm not sure what made it all happen, but it might have started wit
"[her] poetry is beautiful and I'm not afraid to say it, it really is...Its not only like touching color but feeling its emotion back, it's creativity at its best and purest"
"Jack really has got the eye...she will grow up to do much."
"[she] is timeless. Bursting with creativity in all areas of artistic endeavor."
Current Residence: California Personal Quote: Imagine yourself, doing what you love, and loving what you do...
Thanks to everyone who just commented and favorited my newest poem, "Sometimes When I Hate Myself." I haven't been around much. That doesn't matter too much.
Im feeling very stuck creatively. I'll have a poem idea and it'll just never make it to the page. And if it does, it comes out in the following format, which is what my mind always wants to write my poems in
Opening line to catch attention
flowery description
explanation or clarification of first line
filler
filler
filler
filler
filler
metaphor relating back to first few lines
imagery relating to metaphor relating back to first few lines
closing lines
and
more closing lines
and
some big revelation
I don't know.