Baby of Mine

I have written you into my dreams

Dipped your undecided name in starlight

Wrapped it sparkling, tightly to my heart

And though you are no more than a far-off dream

Not even a seed inside of me

I have never felt closer to anyone

I have never loved an idea the way I love you


The Difference between You and Me


The difference between you and me is

You would never hesitate

To hurl a meteor into someone else’s constellation

Constantly colliding and banging

People and things

The epitome of beautiful carelessness

But I –

 I only go as far as the tip of my finger

As it follows a shooting star

I sit in the corner of space

Comfortably hiding

Avoiding gravity because I know I can’t fly

The Lonely Poem

This is the poem that hides
in the corner of the classroom
that weeps silently, but does not cry
because being invisible hurts
because asking to be seen hurts more

And when loneliness
washes you out to the middle of the sea
this is the poem that waits for you
underneath the vivid coral and striking starfish

As you sink down into the darkness
to keep you company at rock bottom

Until you begin to see the stars again

In Return (Daily Post Response)

This post is a response to: , which said to show nourishment. I strayed a little from the theme. Hope you like it!


The earth cradled me in her hands

Allowed me to drink from her rivers

To eat from her brood

Though I gave nothing in return

She brought winds to cool me

A sun to warm me

Stars to shelter me

Though I gave nothing in return

She grew flowers to please me

Vibrant colors and sweet fragrances

And allowed me to take them from her

Though I gave nothing in return

She nourished me and loved me

Until she had no more to give

But with one seed

Wrapped tenderly in a apology

And buried deep in thanks

I offered something in return


Perfect is not a goal of mine

Never has been, never will be

Perfect is a myth, a legend

A desperate person’s fantasy

Perfect is so far off

I can hardly see it

Let alone touch it

Let alone be it

Maybe perfect does exist

Somewhere in the stars

Hidden away from mankind

Never to be ours

But I won’t join a hopeless search

To crash and burn it’s fated

I’m happy with who I am

Perfect is overrated

I wrote this poem, being a little tired of people criticizing me whenever I don’t quite live up to their ridiculous expectations. I may have a bit of a reputation, but I am not perfect, nor I am trying to be. Hopefully some of you can relate 🙂

Shooting Stars (A Companion Piece)

This poem is a response to this daily prompt:

A lovely blogger, Maggie’s Stories, did a companion piece to one of my poems, so I thought I’d return the favor. This is a response to this poem: Rain of Stars

Hopefully you like it!

Shooting Stars

A shimmering silver spark

Hits my windowpane with a hiss

I look outside, and I see

(It’s impossible to miss)

It’s raining stars

Streaking, shiny, sizzling drops

Tear through the sky

Hit the ground with some pops

The streets are paved with moonbeams

The sky is falling down

Shooting stars are all to see

For many miles around

I held out my finger

And caught a silver spark

I took a breath and closed my eyes

And made a wish in the sudden dark