Collection of Poems

Eyes 

It's the tingling of lips, and the prickling of skin.

Those wide hazed eyes, as my lips found his  

It’s hearing my name, like a song from his kiss

I can feel our fire burning, through my soul to his.

Other noises grow quiet, the world fades away.

We both are our alls, all here today.

It’s the burning of something, and maybe a little more.

As we rattle to each other, little things we adore.

But now I wake, from my sleep induced trance.

Realizing once again, I want this advance  

I know I’m still young but these days are getting colder.

These stories and wonders, have turned into my boulder.

But that rolls and it falls so, my eyes again once see.

This world and mine, we’re not meant to be .

A little girl can dream about - being caught in romance.

But this is something deeper, than a holding of a hand.

It’s wanting to be with them, every moment that you can.

It’s lows and it’s highs as barriers crash like sand.  

It’s giving them your heart and hoping they don’t stick, 

a knife sized hole into you, with a bleeding fist.

All compiled into pages, into stories now amiss.

I feel my tears forming, falling to a frown.  

Once again I awake and shake the await,

of a well written romance.  

Because a little girl can dream,

that her nights can get warmer.  

That a page on a book,

can turn into a person hand in hand.

And I know I’ll still young but,   

I’m now a little warmer.  Knowing that these moments

can be so much more than ink,

sprawled on a paper.

Braille 

If to learn, learn in braille,  

on the paper of my skin.  

Raised hair brushing against  

bumps, pebbling too thin.

A touch on a shoulder,  

goosebumps form strong.  

Feeling almost everything,  

the skin singing along.

Read me like a novel,  

but do not ask why.  

I cannot give words, 

so  read my braille, and do not pry.

Read me like a novel,

symbolic between lines.

Annotate with your words,

try not to crack the binds.

Read me like a novel,

but instead of words, just me.

Feel the braille along my arms,

learn how to make a key.

Read me like a novel,

memorize me page by page.

I’ll teach you my braille,

know me with your graze.

Top of the world -

I still remember,

the late summer days,

When I was too tired to drag myself walking. And

little enough for my dad to hoist me on his shoulders.

I still remember,

saying, “I’m at the top of the world!”

Swinging my feet, kicking at his chest.

His hair messy from grabbing hands.

I still remember,

standing against the kitchen wall.

Waiting to be measured like my siblings.

The little inches that grow up to be feet.

I still remember,

my mom’s hands, tilting my chin up and

pushing my feet back, the tallest I could be.

Top of my world.

I still remember,

having to sit up straight.

Good posture is good health.

Angling everything just so, maybe I could slouch a little.

I still remember,

the ache in my back,

after slouching for too long.

Even when I straightened, it wasn’t quite right.

Looking for a comfortable position,

not at the top of the world.

Perhaps, a good middle will do.

Speak 

People are a lot like words.

Both physically and mentally.  Because There and Their are different 

physically, in the spelling and  different mentally, in the meaning.  

Because Right and Right are  same physically, in the spelling and  

different mentally, in the meaning.  Because terrible and bad are  

different physically, in the spelling and  same mentally, in the meaning.

But it can never be same and same.

It’s not possible.

Everything is always the ever changing moving kinetic pieces we call our world.  I can gain weight and lose it again,  but it will never be the 

same.

I can get something wrong and correct it,  but it will never be the same.  

Just like how a small word, itty bitty,  can physically and mentally 

change a big sentence.  A small action, whether your own or not,  can 

physically and mentally change an entire person.

Drama   

The drama, the drama.

“She’s dramatic, I’ll say.”

“She’s drama all night and drama all day!”

The drama, the drama.

There’s no other way  –  to know what people want me to say. Because 

yes it is true, drama is used, in my everyday life, with ups, and downs too. 

But,  the drama, the drama.

I can’t help but play, with hyperboles galore for them to hear what I pray. 

But beware,  there are two sides of drama, neither worse nor fair. 

Because when you are having a bad day drama subsides.

You want comfort and care but, this time:

The drama, the drama.

“No yeah, I’m totally fine!”

Drama keeps brains moving inside.