Days and Reasons

We met on a Saturday so cold we could see our breath,

watching the steam rise through conversation we held.

Words came to wonder, hidden in my curious eyes

That night, you were the reason my heart decided to thaw.

We had our first date on a Monday so rhythmic with music.

We listened for hours as hearts beat through hands we held.

Amsterdam made us a playlist that night and formed hand written art

That night, you were the reason I believed in red painted canvases

You kissed me on a Wednesday so sweet it tasted like honey

Our lips collided, my veins felt and carried through my body.

Signals in my brain were miss firing and running wild in dance

That night, you were the reason I was forgetting how to breathe

We took a drive on a Thursday and toured each others hearts

Your hand strummed my knee like guitar strings you know well

lights blurred by and lit up your eyes that looked into mine

That night, you were the reason my eyes sparkled brighter

I left on a Friday filled with repeated songs of Angels and Airways

reminding me of you at every stop light and the passing street signs

The music stopped with my ringtone that lit up with your name

Last night, you were the reason I couldn't seem to stop smiling.

Its pouring rain on a Saturday as I drive to the beat of Amsterdam,

the anthem plays through speakers demanding me to write again.

hearts are traced against the clouded window that I have touched

Tonight, you're the reason for my fingers making art. 

Inspired by the Horizon Line.

Inspired by the Horizon Line

When someone searches for inspiration

They begin their search at the night sky.

Their eyes stare in mystery and wonder,

Gazing at the distant stars miles away.

They search for glowing comets and galaxies

And stars that race across the atmosphere.

Afraid they’ll blink and miss a shooting star.

That's why it’s magical when they happen to find one.

Their eyes search for impossible secrets

That the vast empty night might hold.

They breathe in the midnight breeze

Hoping the air that had just kissed the stars

Might actually kiss them back, inspiring them.

They always count on stars to share their secrets.

Because are constant, no matter where in the world.

Their loyalty to writers is what makes them intriguing.

It's what keeps someone coming back to be inspired.

Someone might hold their eyes to the sky for hours.

Waiting for words to come that captivates an audience.

Meanwhile lost eyes miss just below the horizon line,

The work of art that's been placed right in front of them,

It’s Waiting for them to bring their eyes down and search its beauty.

This work of art carries unknown variables.

Never constant like the stars and spaces held.

It changes based on where someone is watching from.

The variety of art on the horizon line is what’s alluring.

For some, they might see a distant city.

The life of the city glitters in the lights.

Busy cars rush by to a certain fast pace tempo,

While geometric buildings create striking patterns.

For others, they might see an infinite ocean.

The dark waves create a dance in harmony.

The reflection of the moon lies on the water

It looks distorted, making a Picasso masterpiece.

Someone might look down and see a young couple,

Fingers laced while stealing kisses as they walk.

It might not be an art work like the familiar sky,

But the couple has their own stars in their eyes

Everyone looks to the stars to write poems about.

Stars are unchangeable and as such predictable.

If someone were to look below at what holds the stars.

The risk of being inspired is greater.

What they end up writing about is uncertain.

But maybe, someone could write something equally as beautiful.

 

I looked at the endless Logan sky tonight.

The stars were loyal and sparkled through cold air.

Around me empty space stretched as far as I could see

And tonight, emptiness is what inspired me.

Rythmn of Rain

Hearts had new rhythms that started skipping

set to music of the rain that was slowly dripping

Grey and dark the sky fell slowly in a dance

Making the darkest of hearts desire romance.

Teardrops slide down the window making art

As a soul can only wait for a love that fell apart

Boots splash in reflected puddles that lay in streets,

forming a memory of a sudden last kiss that still repeats

Sounds of thunder collide into cracks of broken hearts

Waiting for lightning to revive the beat backwards into art.

Love floods the city in rivulets of someone’s veins

Until loss of unspoken words hits in a storm that rains.

Raindrops hit their skin and sink in with regret

Over mistakes made in shapes of silhouettes

 Clouds take cover and gathered above

Watching them drown in what was once love.

They held on for rainbows and clear skies

But were only embraced with hard goodbyes

The rhythm of the rain was set to a new pace

It’s too bad their love had to be replaced.

 

My Real Image REVISED

Today I read the post. The only post I had that made "Top 5"

"My Real Image." it was titled. I read it and did a face palm.

The comments read, "Nice To Meet you." "This is so real"

At the time, these comments made my heart melt.

Because They had known my heart, the "REAL" me.

Exactly 166 days later, and I realize they don't know my heart.

So they know I kickbox, they know I didn't have a dad for a while.

I said they knew my heart but they really knew my image.

But an image is just a picture pasted on a single page

They know few pictures, but they sure as hell,

Don't know my heart or my story , and the things that make me REAL.





They don't know what makes me tick and what make me break

or what my face looks like first thing in the morning on a school day.

They don't know that I like the color my eyes turn when I cry.

They don't know that my jaw clenches every time I hear the word Pornography.

They don't know I visit  home most weekends, and still cry every time I leave.

They don't know how badly I want to find love, and how many tears Ive cried over heartbreak.

Or know that god gives me rainstorms instead of rainbows cause I'm happiest in the rain.

They don't know  how hard I analyze lyrics of songs and why I love Ed Sheeran so much.


They know my image. And maybe that's okay they don't know my heart.

Because not everyone gets to know my heart. That's what makes it special.

But one day, someone will learn my heart. They will learn the way it beats,

How many times per minute, what it can hold, its size, its color, and mostly its pages.


Until then though,  this is my image. With a snapshot into my heart.

I'm real. But It's going to take someone special to see my heart beat.





 

Heart Fall

Pumpkin Spice and everything nice came in season

Bringing a bone chilling wind that swirled around me

This time weather had nothing to do with the fall,

but still left me cold and empty like nights in November .

The color of my heart changed like leaves in seasons  

turning dark crimson and fraying at the edges with heartbreak.

It fell from the highest branch and landed fast and hard

But its nature made sure it crumpled and died shortly there after.

Someone can fall in love with the way the leaves sound

beneath their boots laced together like their fingertips.

my heart found another pile of leaves to jump into,

But their heart didn't sound the way yours did beneath mine.

This morning I put on my jacket, the one you liked.

I walked with my headphones in against the wind

Heartbreak had me shivering and I held my jacket closer

Wishing you could warm my heart by holding it like you had.

My heart sat in the library today sipping hot chocolate

searching books for words to describe your sweet kisses

imagining they tasted like the swirls of chocolate on my tongue

My heart went back to summer, but was awoken with chills.

My heart was lit like fire that smelled of campfire smoke

It was beautiful and wild and danced freely in love

but the curious eyes grew bored and the fire died out

Leaving a heart that just got burned and had scars to prove it.

 

This evening I sat and watched the burnt auburn sky

reliving the moments that were carved in eerie designs.

These shaped my heart like faces of  October pumpkins

 put on display on my front porch for everyone to see.

Pumpkin Spice and everything nice came with the season

but still my heart remains lost in the cashmere woods. 

Leaves like my heart will always wander into a new light

and maybe next year Ill be better equipped to handle the fall.