It’s Okay to Not Be Okay By: LuvMiFreely (Hour 4) Bottled up feelings  Sealed tight Afraid to let any of those collected tears to leak out All the years of pent up angry It all fills the bottle to the brim  No room left for…

POEM 04 Scorched, massive wooden bodies, tall, majestic like the Cedars of Lebanon. No match for fire though. Fed by the slightest breeze it comes red and filled with smoke Bulging like a mushroom cloud, a blazing tongue lapping up the distance, tearing through valleys…

I am alive, and I am breathing, my wounds are misleading I am neither hurt nor injured, neither deterred, nor hindered I am serving my purpose, just the way rain must pour, the river must flow, and fire burn and crackle This shackle, Is only…

I wanted to journey, across the hills and mountains, to lands untold, to futures gold, but the hills said no. I wanted to travel, across the craggy peaks and dipping valleys, back to the wind, at fortune’s whim, but the peaks said no. I wanted…

Soles of rubber Able to make waffles Should one walk across A layer of batter then Dip just enough on to a Hot cast iron pan   A day’s work in stompers Presents at home in the kitchen Leaving small squares of Soil molded in…

Cloaked in fog I wander through the woods where time seems to slow down and almost reverse. I feel young again. I feel free at last. The weight of city lights just melts away. I can breathe. I wonder if I should even go back….

Because nobody else will. Those nostalgic days of yesteryear forever seared into my memory have become indelible symbols of the ornate uniqueness of existence.   How many times did we play soccer during lunchtime or go ice skating without any skates? Commandeering the slide for…

Is your woman made of glass? If you put your hand through her, do you bleed out with shards of her in your wrist? Perhaps a window to look out and see your luxury, or a decanter from which you drink your death. Is your…

He takes my ores Smelts them within The blast furnace of my core The rod reddened from The heat of fever dreams Quenching the tip In the expanse of my waters Enclosed within his earth. Boiling over to subside to warmth. How love changes From…

Furiously Happy: A Funny Book About Horrible Things, by Jenny Lawson, gifted to me by HL Contreras, also an author. “Because quitting might be easier, but it won’t be better.”   It won’t be better, I tell myself again, as I pour the diet dressing—and…