This is why I wrote you poetry
and sprinkled your chest with rose petals.
This is why I kissed you in public.
This is why I made time to meet your parents.
This is why I listened.
This is also why I left.
As I learn to fill my own cup, I realize why it was so empty.
i feel it poetry lives inside you behind those eyes that hold secrets of unknown fertile lands why not find the key and open the door to your golden heart?
I posted a copy of my 100 Paths to Ecstasy the other day on Facebook. I realized as I was reading through them that I haven’t done some of them and need to go back and re-do many of them. Because I had never done #33, I thought I would. The picture above shows the…
you live in a box made of limits, rules and pain perhaps you like it
what do you mean by that, anyway? (i mean exactly what i said. there is nothing hidden here) why do you have to question everything? (because things need questioned) can’t you ever just be satisfied? (sure, but not with everything and not right now) maybe you’re in this situation because of the choices you’ve made….
I was walking in an alley in Chicago today and found…
I’ve been doing serious writing for weeks. My mind is wandering to stuff I like. Here goes: love fast cars open hearts dark chocolate strong men (and women) morning toes in wet grass kissing (lots) puppy breath my kids singing dancing flowers petting (both directions) friendship artmaking of all sorts smart people creative people truth…