There is love in all that I do

My heart is a trunk submerged in mud

Digging its way through like a baby birds beak

Stuck in a place it doesn’t belong

Sometimes I feel like I’m better than the world

They don’t care enough 

Weak and insensitive beings

There's passion in all that I do

There is love in my anguish

Love in my tears

And love in my trunk

Sinking into the roots of the earth I am waiting for a leaf to fall and lay its falling pieces onto my branches

Friendship bracelt and a letter

Tie me onto your wrist

Take me everywhere you wish to go

I am not afraid of traveling roads with you

I give you permission to sweat, shower, and wipe your tears with my thousand threads

If I unravel in the midst of your confusion lay me in a safe place

The same place you keep objects without wings waiting to be born again

I have a rampant midnight spur of the moment words of confusion for you to decipher

I mean all that I say

I hope you feel what I mean

I won’t lay myself down with you and whisper in your ear at the same time

I want to take all the time I can get with you

I am afraid there will not be enough for us

I choose to give you these gifts separately

What kind of writer are you?
The dark corner with acidic tears
Cracked floorboard ready to collapse
Ghost writer in the booth
What kind of writer are you?

I have been searching for a way out but I haven't changed my route. I am still writing what and feel and the way I know best, through poetry. Although I feel comfortable with this method there is still this part of me reaching to find the perfect line. That line that everyone feels and has said to themselves once upon on a time but it still has a profound effect. A statement that in its simplicity captures a lifetime of wide smiles and heavy frowns. I want to give myself fully to the fruitful world. I don't want to pick from the apple tree but I want to plan coconut trees.
For those of you who are consistent followers of mine, I hope that you continue to follow my work. I am inconsistent and a sporadic busy body but I would like to still stay connected with you. I will try my best to post poems when the shaking of my hand touches the page.
I got  Tumblr and still don't post or keep it up consistently. ha!