I don’t know who’s appearance you have,
I don’t know what passions ignite your soul.
I don’t know where we’ll meet,
I don’t know when that’ll be.
I don’t know why you’ll choose me,
I don’t know how I’ll let you.
I know only one thing:
You were born a woman.
Continue reading “Dear Future Wife”
Nearing the final level,
A coinless Sonic is hit,
No lives left to revive him. . .
Yes / No
Continue reading “Game Over. Start Over? | Living with Bipolar”
Just work your life away,
What is the harm in that?
Who has time for self-care,
When you can make money?
Continue reading “Running on Empty | Living with Bipolar”
Life’s full of people needing things from you,
Sometimes it’s supplying true interest in them,
Sometimes it’s comforting words when they’re lonely.
Life’s full of you needing things from people,
Sometimes it’s gifting advice to halt your mind,
Sometimes it’s holding you during a breakdown.
Continue reading “I Can’t Be Everything for Everyone”
All my grandparents have left,
Yet none of them are gone.
They left behind disease,
They left behind old age,
They left behind suff’ring.
Now it all starts anew,
Every spirit’s next step.
Continue reading “Souls Don’t Die | A Poem for my Grandparents”
You can feel the history,
It surrounds at ev’ry turn,
All starting with simple words,
Not a popular nickname,
Yet it truthfully remains,
As words cover The District,
Continue reading ““The City of Words””
Wonder if I truly need them,
Ponder what changes due to them,
Fonder each day passes without them,
Absconder each night staring at them.
Continue reading “Medicated | Living with Bipolar 2”
I know no existence without her,
She knows no other younger sister.
I was always right behind,
Endeavoring to match stride.
Continue reading “Into the Unknown with the Known”
Ve saw me wading through oblivion,
Ve dragged me away from the edge,
How could someone of intrinsic value,
Be found using online classified ads?
Continue reading “I Met my Best Friend on Craigslist”
“Oh no, that stanza should be over there…”
Publishing poetry changes the words,
They no longer only belong to me,
Every reader has their own impression,
Clicking publish removes it from my control.
Continue reading “Poetry Doesn’t Have to be Perfect”