You’re My Favorite Color 

I was told to write a poem

about my favorite color,

but how could I pick just one

when your peachy skin, 

sandy hair, and ocean blue eyes

are all my favorite color.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

I hope it’s true.

All the things you say she’s done for you.

Nothing would break my heart more

than to find that you chose someone

who gives you anything short of everything

that I would have given you.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , | Leave a comment

Fighting Is Our Favorite Pass-Time

I hate when we fight. I hate it.

All I want to do is make you happy and

I struggle between pushing my feelings aside,

or speaking out about them.

I hate when we fight. I love you.

I cry when you angrily tell me,

“Fine, just go do whatever you want.

Do whatever makes you happy. I don’t care.”

I hate it because the only thing

I can think of that makes me happy,

the only thing I want, is to run into your arms.

To hug you and kiss you, and forget about everything.

I hate when we fight because I can’t do that.

I can’t just curl up in a ball and cuddle with you

forever like I wish we could.

I hate when we fight.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

*Written when I was 14*

Pondering – This love is a chance, was I right to take it?

Wondering – there is no romance, will I be able to make it?

My hope is forlorn, my heart will be torn.

There is one great thing that I wish to see

and that is my love, right here with me.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Be Your Own Hero

The world sometimes seems to be crashing down around me.

I close my eyes, afraid that if I open them, all will be gone.

I impulsively open them, expecting to see darkness alone.

My assumptions are true.

Wait – out there, far beyond…

There’s a light, I see it.

I feel a pull, an attraction towards it.

Soon I can make out what it is, and it’s my reflection;

a mirror with a happier image of myself staring back at me.

This version looks healthy,

She doesn’t seem to be draped in the layers of self-hatred that mar me.

Still feeling that pull, I walk over to the mirror

and into it… There I am.

Overwhelmed with home, love, normalcy.

Or so I thought.

All turned away, disintegrating into nothingness.

I’m forced back into the darkness, the loneliness.

Someone – Something approaches me.

It is love. It is me. I am free and unafraid.

I am happy.

I made myself happy.



Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Your eyes are windows.

Through them I can see your soul,

and it’s beautiful.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

You Are What You Write

A poem is a writer’s thoughts,

a skill that cannot be taught.

it doesn’t have to rhyme though,

let your soul do the writing.

It’s an art made by beautiful minds,

that other beautiful minds can feel.

Are you a beautiful mind?

A poem can be just meaningless words that mean everything.









A poem is a song,

sung to the most wonderful melody.

A poem is wonderous,

deep, right, wrong.

The poem you write

is you.

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , | Leave a comment