Houseless, not homeless.

 

Home is where love lives.

Time travel

 

At times, the only way to survive the present is to have something to look forward to. 

'Til death do us not part

 

Ironically, there is so much life at the graveyard. 

Intuition

 

Sometimes, you need to embrace the silence before you can find your voice.

Name

Identity

History

Family

Self —

What is in my name

Besides exactly who I am?

What is in a name

The one on paper

Then the one I choose

When I go on stage;

The one he whispers

In my ear,

Then screamed  

As he came.

I am all of the above.

What is in a name 

When you marry and take his?

No longer mine,

Mine still —

What I replace,

The future I gain,

No longer mine,

No longer yours,

But ours. 

Aftermath

 

What irony,

There is so much life

At the graveyard.

When the writing works out

All I have to do is show up,

Gain momentum;

Give you one last rep,

Another verse

To finish this poem.

I have always dreaded 

Doing the plank,

Now I can hold it

For a full minute,

Without tearing up.

Lift me up

Talent is not enough

Writing is a muscle,

I had become rusty —

Now planning my sessions in

The more I work out

The more I want to write.

Create,

Train hard

The benefits of a sweat

Back to the pleasure 

of my pen,

I am looking forward

To my best poem yet.

Raw sensitivity

 

I eat my feelings
Medium rare.

Hot as Ice

Hot like fire,
Cold as ice

If stares could kill
My feelings would freeze.

He ignites
Light in my eyes,
Sends shiver
Down my spine.

I jump in the shower,
Burn with vigour
To cool my temper.

Extremes,
I am always at extremes,

It is either, or

I gauge for
Equilibrium.