Corner in My Heart

There's a corner in my heart

Stifled for the years of my life

Striving to be delicate, striving to be sweet

Striving to be hopeless, striving to be meek

Melt the ice queen, illuminate my fears

Turn back my mind, wipe all these tears

Make a heart of gold, make the girl smile

Watch in pure bliss, stay for a little while

Dreaming of the fearless, tall and dark and brave

Wanting to be vulnerable, the time this heart has made

Fill in the missing corner, these corners of my heart

Mend my weaknesses, rise back what fate will start

The words strung in my head, peaking at 3 a.m.

Striving to be brave for me, for him and her learning

Driving down a broken road, breaking the inevitable falls

Igniting the oil in my soul, tearing down the Berlin walls

Finding a reason to be happy, to cry in front of you

All the things I never said, all these are truths

Writing down the miseries, counting down the hours

Till I break free from my shell, till I lend my voice

Create a nation of truehearts, symphony of noise

Go on and curve the corners of my heart

They weren't built that strong

But live on they will, in my own words

Firing my will

My will to stay the person

I thought I was meant to be

What I convinced myself I must

Stay to stay just me

To please the ones whose trust I sought

To gain with no return

these words I write to me, not you

So selfish I must remain

The thoughts inside my aching head

Build a new homestead

Haven for the troubled thoughts

The ones I sought to hide

Haven for the darkest words

In no one I could confide

So I'll open this corner of my heart

Perhaps just for a day

Let the river of passion run wild

Then write it to press replay

Temporary Sorrow

Squeeze the salt out my swollen eyes

Flashes of misery, what are the reasons?

That distorted my focus, my perspective

My selfish prerogative

The banks of my eyes are dry

Leaving remnants behind

Fragments of a temporary sorrow

Inscribing you in my mind

Strange, only this morning

Did I stare into your sleep-deprived eyes

And swallow the tears in my cappuccino

And wish it were the way it was before

The words you write fill the dam in my eyes,

Complete the empty space in my heart,

Flood the drought of sugar in my voice,

Free the unborn bird in my mind

Lyrics of the Younger

It's not over yet

I've but stroked the surface of reality

Knocking at my unborn door

Waiting on an answer

My arms are swimming

But my mind refuses

Life is too sweet to watch it pass by

Like a long summer afternoon

Where did my summer go?

It's fall, but I'm still living in a

Summer kind of haze

Dazed by the rush of blood to the head

A singer's recollection of yesterdays left unsaid

They read like lyrics and I think

Maybe I can write a song

A melody for the slightest productivity

Alleviate my stillness

Sitting in a pool of broken sand

It's hardly the second half

The second part of a secondary year

But I reach over sparks

And see the sun embrace my tears and

Wipe them on the clouds I dream on

Sailing through the miseries of

A universal truth

A kind of panacea

I wish it could exist

But I won't live in fantasies

And cradle my thoughts in maybes

Lather the rims of forgotten tries

And make amends those attempts to

Drive the connection into

Something I cannot comprehend

So I just ride the wind into a thousand paths

And take on whichever breeze pleases me

And the weights crushing my shoulders

Celebrate their pay day and I

Breathe and feign weariness when I know

I lack retention of

The words they manifest

In my favor, no less

Pick out the imperfections

Because that's how I'm wired to be

See the miniscule cracks in a lake

Mirroring my trains of desire

My maladies flow down my cheeks

Etching a sort of canyon

But I drown myself in lyrics of the younger

A youthful sort of sincere

Of happiness and remedies

And freedom for us all

Take back what I have lost

And be happy, I say

Smile.

Shades of Me

Deep in the depths of my thoughts

I can be sweet and happy and stress-free but I

See the lines on the faces to

Create a new visage I don't

Have

I tell myself to make a metamorphosis

Butterfly wings

Monarch of the art

Falling into a natural equilibrium

I can't.

It's my nature.

Do I accept off-beat melodies

For shadows of possibilities?

Someday the light will

Reflect a kaleidoscope of

The shades of me,

Maybe,

All the shades of me.

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Recent Accomplishments

I started a new hobby.

I collect beads

And bottles

Of my tears.

I made a deal with the stars.

They’ll constellate

Into my own

On a walk of fame.

Untitled

A haiku.

White Christmas never

Came, hopes falling down, starting

All over again

Saltwater

Last Saturday I visited the ocean

And pretended I wasn’t cold

Now I can’t fake the bubbliness

I’ve to admit, saltwater is delicious

Why do you have to be

Oceans away from me

When I need you the most?

A single word could make my day

Or even just your face

This isn’t one of those songs

Where I complain about my life

Or how I can’t breathe

Or why I can’t see

I’m better than that

I’mma replace that

With a box of my saltwater tears

Why do we have to be

So unable to speak?

Decipher my telepathy

In this strange land

Someday my velleity

Will start a well of these memories

The box will be dry

I won’t have to cry

In my box of saltwater tears

Drought of Bravery

Holding back tears is a burning sensation

Saltwater ripples in the corners of the eyes

Strength lies in the drought of bravery

Constellations

These actually turned out to be song lyrics, hence the chorus.

Diamonds of a different kind

Glitter spilling on my paper

Shooting all the reasons why

To quit, they've erased it and I

See the shadows I'm hiding behind

Brighter than the gleam in my eyes

I find

I collect a jar of stars

Reach out my skinny fingers and

Touch the constellations

Find the inspiration and I

Reach out my lonely hopes and

Feel the constellations

Give me inspiration

To write

Jewels with peculiar faces

Melodies and rhymes so jaded

Fall in line, play the songs I write

Infuse another life

I collect a jar of stars

Reach out my skinny fingers and

Touch the constellations

Find the inspiration and I

Reach out my lonely hopes and

Feel the constellations

Give me inspiration

To write

I think I know them, know these faces

The voices of my reason

I think I saw them in these places

Lighting me a million watts a second

Forever cemented in my mind

I collect a jar of stars

Reach out my skinny fingers and

Touch the constellations

Find the inspiration and I

Reach out my lonely hopes and

Feel the constellations

Give me inspiration

To write

Crystalline Premonition

Lollipops are so easily broken

My bad habits aren’t the same

Could I possibly think of something lamer? (no)

Hey boy, I saw you today and my eyes flew away

They refuse to leave your face

I tried to call them back but their disobedience remains

Even now as I piece together my campaign

Tradition says the guy’s gonna serenade his girl

But you know my voice is honey-sweet

Just your river of smooth dark chocolate

Stop that, I’m hungry

I hate to admit, my stomach growls for reasons

Not bequeathed under my control

My appetite hired a plane

To sky-write your name…

Into my brain, that is

It’s not my fault

This poem's not what I intended

Thought I would unleash a free spirit

Just letting my thoughts run

Bound by the unfortunate rhyming rules

They like me almost as much as I seem you

Seemingly, seemingly? I beg you not

Partake a role in these fabricated laws

Substitute yourself in my honest favor

Some guys are flavor of the month

But I have a premonition, less than thirty-one

My heart's arrhythmia flies sincere

A rush of blood to the brain, euphoria

This is the part where I beg and plead

For you to consider me

But I go against the grain

Things aren’t the same

It's you my heart sees

Singular

Whisper the words not meant for their ears

I appreciate the proximity, dear

Accidental rhymes serenade me

I’m always the one doing the singing

And you the ignoring

Won’t you be my pianist, boy?

Harmonies too sweet, too prophetic

Bitten tears and black and white visions

Little boys and their favorite pretty girls

Eyeliner and messy hair never hurt a soul

Absence does make other hearts grow fonder

I’m still alone

These mysteries fuel my late night songwriting

Silly, silly, silly girl I am

Could you be my silly, silly, silly boy?

Take an ear for my flirting, please

And go along with my scripted plan

A particular and genuine kind of charades

Could it be that out thoughts intersect?

And in some twisted reverse psychology

‘Twould be the same for you

That’s the medieval talk

The Shakespearean romances I’ve been reading

That’s the music playing

The bad romance a lady called GaGa told me

That’s the twelve a.m. clock

Glaring at me with buttery eyes

It wants you too

Million line stanza, take me to sleep

Mend my torn eyelashes

My poems can be singular thoughts

Singular ideas, singular dreams

Singular me

Starting Somewhere

Writing poetry is, for me, therapy. Why pay green for an awkward conversation on a therapist's couch when you can create something excruciatingly introspective, potentially embarrassing, yet wonderfully yours?

"Honor your vomit." - Lady GaGa

P. S. The blog title comes from my poem "Singular."