This poetry can date anywhere from years to one day old! All of it is sentimental to me, whether it applies to me or not. I like to write about personal experience, or write as if I were looking through someone else's eyes. Poetry is personal to me, however, I would like to share my poetry with others so that they may experience or relate to my feelings. I don't believe any poetry is bad, just misunderstood or not in depth. Please email
I have written ever since I was in elementary school. These are just a few of the various poems I have written. I write of ALL subjects. If you would like to see more of my poetry, contact me.
"And You Judge That?"
Yeah, I hear you through those thin walls,
Talking about me,
Squinting your eyes,
Your whispers aren't silent at all,
And your mimics are more than obvious,
And you try to teach me about God?
Who do you think I am?
A little confused girl?
My mind in a whirl?
I am not,
I am strong,
My life experiences long.
You talk to me like I am not good enough,
What more can I be?
God lives within me,
I think its you that does not believe!
You think I am not beautiful enough,
Inside or out,
Isn't what God is about!
I am what I am,
I am a creation,
Of someone much higher,
And you judge that?
You don't care how I feel,
You think I am deaf and blind,
But you seem not to understand,
God hears you ALL of the time!
"When I Awaken"
As I dream these fingertips of mine
Slide down the valleys of your back
Only wanting to feel your hands hold
My face and make me warm again.
I long to see the light
And shed this old skin
That these scars have held me in.
Tucked in by these sheets
Timid and with smiles
I dream of you
I hold you in my arms
As I awaken, holding nothing but thin air.
Breathe me in, my love
Let me travel in your depths
Fill my hollow heart with seeds
And watch me bloom.
Our lives are similar to a canvas,
God has made us the paintbrushes,
Offered us His magnificent colors,
While He makes our souls translucent windows
That our flesh conceals.
In all of these pieces of life
He makes our puzzles be filled
Wanting our windows open to Him,
So I will not darken my soul, so that He can see
All the beautiful colors He gave to me.
"You See A Bad Boy, I See A Gentle Soul"
Sometimes a fight isnt worth the win
Of the fists that strick
The gentle in a rough looking heart
Making what was soft, tough.
Through the cement expressions
Is a display of abstract art
Where you may have to search for the warm colors
But once found, they are the brightest.
"Do you Agree?"
Think they are beautiful.
Run your fingers through my tangled hair
And ask me to wipe this lipstick away.
Love my paleness
But find the colors in my soul.
Like I once loved my porcelain dolls;
Know I am fragile at heart.
And touch my lips with your fingers
As you resist kissing me just to stare.
While you understand
That you agree to love what is not perfect.
"He Didnt Eat That Much"
I sit across the table
Not able to forget you
Your face battered in my head
Not able to let go of the love I once knew
Whats inside my uninhabited heart adhering to you?
Whys my eyes still following your shadows in the room?
I dont want my tears tempted enough to leave my desolate eyes
Or my face to be deprived of your unmistakable touch
So I set a place at the table
Just believing that you left for a minute and didnt eat that much.
Holding on is the hardest sacrifice
And I let our love burn and fade at this table
Knowing there isnt much of a flame left.
So I leave the table
With your plate set
Just believing tomorrow that you arent ready to eat yet.
"Letter Addressed To The World"
Throughout these raging rivers and towering mountains in life,
We seem to forget,
That we are ALL children of these spacious paths.
We all can see our reflections in the water--
Our homes all are built underneath this awe inspiring sky.
Please hear me out world,
Remember that we all walk on the sullied ground sometimes,
But we should grow and try to make this world a partial mirror of the sky.
We should let our children receive fertile lands,
As a dandelion does while releasing her seeds.
As my hand clinches this pen
I shed my skin like an erotic snake
Slithering for the barrows and holes inside of these words;
That race through the caverns of my battling mind.
I stop my guard for nothing!
It is a reflex of my nature to strike at any words that come my way.
I can explore the wonders that are below the tall;
Finding a feast or quench of thirst in the sands
But waiting for my thirst to be quenched
In my amazement of these words that are a feast to my mind.
The moon seems larger tonight
As I lay alone underneath the perfectly woven blanket of stars
Nature sings her lullibies
As the trees sway in the air while rocking themselves asleep.
The wet grass is damp on my back
Cutting like feeble blades as I squirm for a better view--
The dew on the leaves falls onto my lips
As I lay underneath the sleeping trees.
I have entered another world
Where my eyes have been opened and have seen
That I am taller of mankind
Not minding being the small ant compared to the world around me.
We had so many instruments of melodies before inventions--
The bird's sunrise hymns,
The whistling of the breezes,
The thunder's painful roar.
We have informed our ears not to hear these things,
And then we decide to have a few days of vacation in the untamed woods,
Hearing the melodies we could've listened to at our homes.
After we return to our satin sheets,
WE CHOOSE OUR SILENCES AGAIN.
"Seeds of Life"
I watched my grandmother in her garden
Digging her white shoes in the soil
She had beads of sweat dancing down her forehead to her rosy cheeks
And moved her hands over the newly planted seed's caverns--
While possessing a painter's ability of sight before the paintbrush even
touches the canvas.
I noticed then that she too was an artist of a sort
But being so young, I never understood before
That her hands were pricked for me
Her hands were pinched, stung, and bruised to feed
Mouths that have grown through generations becoming life's seeds.
Now her old age is something for me to admire
And each day I am a sprouting seed
I only hope that hands like my grandmother's always work the earth--
I long to be the artist that she has grown to be.
"WHAT HAS BECOME"
You burn me with your words
While killing the butterflies inside
That once glided and swarmed in my stomach--
Now just flames--
Now just remorse and blame.
You've let go of my hands
Stopped telling me that I am beautiful
And have pushed me to the dirt and made me feel this world
on my gums and teeth
to swallow whole.
The pillow is over my face
Letting me smell the scent of desperation
Trying to hold on for
one last breath like
I've always tried to hold on to you.
"Behind This Gentle Mask"
What tempted your sweet soul to show such a fiery tongue?
It made the angels fall from my sky
And it rained beneath my eyes,
Knowing it is time to escape from you.
What possessed a heart so undistorted to belittle a weak heart like mine?
I dreamt of only your footprints in the sands of my time
And then blinding by a Herculean wisp of air;
Told "I don't love you" without any cares.
What triggers the dirtiness in a vivid mind to hurt one so engaged with only one?
My heart was so tame to your voice
Letting the lion encounter the lamb--
Behind the once gentle mask.
"I Once Lived"
I once lived for you
Now I die each time
our eyes meet.
There used to be a flame within our holding hands
"I Love You" used to be words that I could understand.
It kills me to see us fade
Like a heavenly star that wounds to black.
I died for you
Trying to hold on
Trying to live for you as I did
But now I can't, won't, and don't.
I trained my ears to only hear your voice
But now other tones bleed through
As we hold hands
I am walking away inside--
Behind this smile.
Finally by looking into your pit of an eye
I see that we are hollow inside,
Your once ecstatic soul.
Even the rainbows fade
And some storms succeed later making a harvest--
Between our hands is only air now...
And even the thunder knows when it is time to go.
You raged me
And my aberration lit the
unraveled ends of my soul
blazing and warming my blood
My eyes grow roots of red
Like an ivy plants constant determination
to grow up a wall
I try to pull these ivy leaves down
and tear these vines from showing to the
Just as I think I have won...
I begin to cry.
"AS I DREAM"
As I dream
To something higher than I.
I must be what I am for a reason
Because someone made me
And my imaginative mind
To conceive these words
I now write.