It’s been five days,
But more than five days have been accomplished
It doesn’t feel like years have past,
Only that the beginning seems like years ago
It’s time to leave, to another world
But the world we leave will never leave us

i could break beneath the weight of
atmosphere.
these stars, balanced atop my head
are heavier than the sun,
lending their light
across a universe, a lifetime
to shatter my insides in their silence.
the ground has already crumbled,

Hadfield gazed out the small glass window,
a portal to home.
Through the opening, an inspiring sight,
the bright sunlight shone.
Swirling colors, pushing to the horizon,
a palette of aquamarine,
And through the dappled cover of clouds,

On sad days,
his eyes tell me stories –
stories of pain,
of struggle,
of truth.
They hold within them soft, grey clouds after April afternoon storms.

But the sky is bright without the sun,
because it is never truly gone.

My record player- The warm sound of “Ultraviolence” circling through my room like nothing I’ve ever heard before. Connected with the music. 

        You look at me and you soon know my entire story, a story of sadness turned into bliss but only because of you- connected

Quite a lot to say but such little time,
We are all stuck in the crime of rhythm and rhyme.
Forgive my silence, my pen is running dry.
Don't know if I'll make it but I can promise to try.

right now, I am a rough draft.
I am left here to be
looked back on and revised

Standing alone, solo
In the darkest shadows
She would pour her forte emotion into piano whispers
Although she is afraid now, her goal never blurs

A old man beyond salvation
slumps on the ground
and prepares for his end.
He starts listing what he doesn’t have

anymore,
He is
beyond the point of coming back
but he still has one joy.
He has a motivation to keep going

“These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,
Which, as they kiss, consume.”
-William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet 

One star, a single shining star,
Made us today, who we are.
When rocks both smooth and coarse,
Came together with force.
When the galaxy was new,
Something in space was a brew!

Some of my hobbies include:
writing
and baking
and looking into your brown eyes until I fear that I just might lose myself inside of them.
A few of my favorite activities are:
drawing
and sewing

Red and burning
Heart jumping
Pumping
A whisper of excitement
Concealed behind hesitant lips
Waiting to slip
Forget.

It burns
It burns deep inside
every drop that runs down

your back as you ignore the pain
correction after correction
being told you aren’t good enough for it

I'm not sure if the glass is half empty or half full. 
Coffee shops leave me homesick for 8 minute drives to your cul-de-sac, to your arms; you're always busy. 

I am a strong young man exhausted from my ways
I’ve been in eleven facilities but nothing ever seemed to change
Until one day I felt his grace and heard it say
Come to me my child and I will take it all away…

Twirling
Twirling-Twirling
Along with the shhing of the pointe shoe on the stage
The smooth, sweet music playing to her sharp moves.

From his lips
To the paper,
To the teacher,
To the air,
To my mind that will not recall.

A thought may amble a bit ‘till it trips to a halt,
            ‘till it ticks up a halt and a half.
Slams to a door and whatever blue-black residue flirts with the hinges,
            flirts with the hinges:
A hiccup frame for the ghost words you never said

This curving,
cynical back behind me, it’s:
A warm bench,
A warm chestnut bench,
A warm chestnut.  A cold foreboding pew.
Luster here has now turned bland:
contaminated with waltzing dust and
a reek of pages
not turned for a decade.

The sky was an abyss of gloom,
As the trees billowed in the breath of the wind.
The stars sang secrets to the moon,
Above a castle holding lovers within.
An age-old monarch was outraged by his daughter’s betrayal,

It is a wall.
It is stiff, blank. Unmoving. 
It guards the paradise 
That she knows belongs there.

It is a stone
Waiting for her, the sculptor, 
To make it mean something.

The form of letters slop and curve on a page
like a human body. 
White paper, bare skin,
The line of a belt below a belly button:
the line of a notebook just below a sentence. 

The insistent decision that
The world is beyond repair because
No longer will
Human nature fix these things.
Negativity and pessimism
Invade the land of
Enthusiasm and assurance.
The problems remain
Because
People make choices,

Hello? 
I am looking,
Through windows and doors,
Looking at trees and between the shores 
For that spark.
The little thing that ignites souls ablaze
Propels emotion to heights unknown 
Cultivates thoughts hidden.

There is crimson and blue on the floors,
Where the players shoot, shoot, shoot, and score,
In the stands the crowd cheers,
For all of Lawrence to hear,
Basketball is in our DNA,
Ever since James Nai,

When I look into the lonely night sky,
I am reminded of yesterday’s passion.
Didn’t the stars fill the sky last night?
Didn’t your face reflect
The radiance of the moon?
We made music in the air, dancing
Under heaven’s light.

Give me an unagitated evening,
where I could sleep-walk
under a light rose-petal sky,
and arrive at your door,
40 miles away,
just in time for dinner.

Have you seen her? You must have seen her,
she’s one of the trees, with all the rain
that she can bear:

Eye color? Colorado green.
Hair color? The evening sun.
Don’t mistake her voice
for the hidden opal stream.

A star-studded with nothing but dreams,
Walking the path she had laid.
Big things would come they say,
Nothing but lies through the door way.