Giving ShelterThere's a message in this poem.More Like This
Look carefully and you might just see,
I'm here to tell you something.
The cracks in my vision have spread,
Breaking these days to kaleidoscope dreams.
The colors that burn and spin confuse me;
And dark spots laugh as nightmares.
Yet people ask me why it is
That I cling tight to the beauty of a rose,
Keeping it under glass like the Beast.
Is it not clear that I fear myself?
Is it not obvious? Every riddle has an answer.
The fog is a metaphor for something,
A metaphor for the emotion in my words.
Standing here holding a rose,
Staring at an angel's emerald stars,
My heartbeats shake my fingers.
I fear this creature I am; afraid
I might break this flower newly bloomed.
So I stand rooted in the haze,
Sheltering a blossom,
When the daylight is merely a step away.
For the step into sunlight,
Would wither these petals of silk,
And destroy the one true treasure I own.
There's a message in this poem,
Did you catch it?
I'm trying to tell you something.
Lullaby"I've been waiting my entire life to tell you that I'm dying and I figured I'd finally get it over with.More Like This
So here I am, carving forgive me
into my teeth, so every time that I speak
I can still say that I'm sorry.
More years have passed in the last than I care to remember
but I could never forget:
In eighth grade my chorus teacher always told me,
'Michael, you'll never be good enough.'
and it always excited me. It reminded me of my mother.
On the last day of school she smiled,
her teeth jagged like a train wreck,
she didn't say a word,
but I knew exactly what she meant.
In high school I fell in love with a roadside bomb waiting to be detonated by a passing glance.
Every time she blew up,
she'd pick the pieces of herself off of bathroom floors
mixed with the medicine she never needed. She had
One day she caught me staring, smiled, walked over, and hugged me...
she smelled like a lonely night.
As she pulled away she looked me dead in the eyes and said,
'Don't worry abou