The Box (a poem)

The Box

Written January 2nd, 2013

In my house, there is a box.

The box is mine, and in it I hide

When the house gets too loud

Filled with shouts and tension

Gossip and anger

When it’s too much on the outside

I shut the door on my box

And fill it with tears.

But it’s just cardboard

Very flimsy, very thin

Through its paper walls

I can still hear the agitated din.

Turn up music

Stuff cotton in my ears

Even when it’s quiet

I can still feel the scars

From all the dysfunctional years.

Stained (a poem)

Stained

Written July 18th, 2011

A familiar pair of eyes

Stare out at me from the computer screen

An image from the life you’re living

This very moment, somewhere, without me

And there’s this sinking feeling

Way down deep in my innermost core

I can’t look away from your face

While I remember the loss of something that could have been more

I can’t help but wonder if you think of me

If you reminisce and miss what we had

On the cold and rainy days

The days I used to keep you warm

Late Night Muse (a poem)

Late Night Muse

Written September 11th, 2011

I watch them

I see them all

Lonely, heartbroken, and defeated

It’s in their posture

As they walk down the hall

I’ve been there

Felt it all

I’ve been in that fall

They ask me

How do I do it?

How do I smile,

How do I keep going?

They say

It isn’t worth it

Not at all

It just ends up in tears

They always fall

The Flipside (a poem)

The Flipside

Written August 25th, 2011

There’s pictures on the wall

Of my adventures far away

The maps and photos, tickets and brochures

Receipts printed in French and letters from home

It’s hard to look at it all

Without catching my breath as I remember that day

See that postcard off to the side

Along and out of the way?

Greetings from Munich

A sunset glowing behind a silhouetted city

Flip it over, there’s a message, I tried and I tried

To send it to you; but it remains here to this day

Windows and Doors (a poem)

Windows and Doors

Written August 24th, 2011

As time passes by

A pool of reflections

Swells behind my eyes

The shimmering lights on the water

They are only windows of the past

And hard as I may try

I can never change them to doors

(Dear Marius) Were You Real? (a poem, a dedication)

Dear Marius

Were You Real?

Written May 28th, 2011

Pictures everywhere

Of a familiar face

A friendly green stare

And a smile like no other

In this world, anywhere

 

And yet these photos

Are just paper

Not living flesh

These photos

Hold the memories

Not the presence

The House on the Hill (a poem)

The House on the Hill

Written April 13th, 2011

There is a house atop a hill

Lonely on the outskirts of town

The windows cracked, the shadows still

The vines crawl

And the grass is tall

Nature is claiming it back; running it down

(Raise Your Voice) The Dark Secret He Keeps (a poem)

Added to 'Raise Your Voice' collection May 25th, 2011
The Dark Secret He Keeps

No one knows

That he cries softly in his room at night

Muffled in his pillow so his family won’t hear

So they won’t ask questions

They can’t find out

They can’t know

He doesn’t know

What to do himself

What to think

He tells himself it isn’t true

So much he almost believes it

He doesn’t want to know

The boys in class don’t know

How much their words hurt

They’re mean to him intentionally

But they don’t know just how deep

What they say really goes

I’d like to think they’d stop if they knew

*Remote (a poem)

Remote

I wish I had a remote

With buttons for pause and rewind

I could use it like a boat

To sail across the oceans of time

And re-visit the moments in life I've left behind.

My remote wouldn't have a fast forward button

Because what would be the point of life

If I saw it all in a moment of curious glutton

And knew every joy success, downfall, and strife?

And if I skipped every obstacle

I'd never become wise.

So let the future be a surprise

That I carve out for myself

Betrayed (a poem)

Betrayed
-Written February 27th, 2011

I sit here before this blank page
A threshold to emotional release
An entrance to my mind
For all to interpret

And yet I cannot describe
What's inside
For once I am speechless
Empty
It's strange for me
Because words are my specialty

These Are the Days (a poem)

These Are the Days

These are the days
When everything you eat falls to ash
At your lips
And even after you swallowed
The taste you wish would go away most
Remains
And your stomach is in pain
From digesting the delicacy
That was your favorite yesterday
Or any other normal day
But not today