I wanted to be built like the sleek creature for hunting, or an elegant light beauty made delicate wings born for flight. Instead I was shaped to be an animal of burden. My neck and back lack grace, curved from the weight of years spent caring for the ungrateful and perhaps even the undeserving. Their…

I call you mine without possession this us by design an impenetrable creation what’s yours what’s mine a fortress of intention asynchronous lives unbind pure elation as parted halves unite a rising perfection all things reveal in time I need you more than I want to admit I am this wounded bird wronged by the…

The hours crawl by slowly agonizing down the lengths of my needs exposed softly tucked away beneath strengths slithering about lowly all the sticky bits I can’t admit in the storm gathering force I get the batteries ready cells of accumulated resources that lie stored and untapped planning for the day I wanted to hide…

Holding hostage complete control over my life while wielding no control over theirs was a scary upbringing.

I’m a walking cemetery of all that’s lost the buried names etched into memories carried on a breeze that whispers it should have been me always reminding they’ll be gone if I forget and then, what will it have meant?

I’m a maze countless paths winding halls of voices calling wanderers to lose their way trapped in a daze of their choices they thought were freely made I inch my way past the archway of each new endeavor underneath the corpses of slain efforts frustration is the gate that births me everyday I’m frail under…

If only he knew his masculinity is slowly torturing me wrapped in divinity sharply spiked and laced he tendrils smoky heady thoughts getting drunk together breathing the quick rush of forbidden needs his scent clings to my skin he straps me in with wants around my waist a seatbelt embrace for my mad fury pacing…

Sometimes the poem is in a silence Now I know what it is to have a heart Borne from stillness in tempered brilliance. Expressed experience masked in clairvoyance True journey is return broken apart Sometimes the poem is in a silence. The heavens call to me as consequence Only what dies holds beauty birthing art…

The way you test my every glance is our dance that sparks zest between my legs when I burst into laughter.

Art brings the seed of change and if you charge for change you limit the access I love exposure to others because it refreshes my thinking I also am careful with exposure in excess to protect myself from sunburns