I try to write a poem
but all I hear is music
as I write, the words slip from my colorful mind to the tip of my tongue, I hum

my notepad is full of sparkling notes and tones
ink stains on every goddamn page
I erase
hands longing for piano keys, I hear the bow strokes
every finger on each string, a honey sweet song

girl, come on
let it go, write a poem 

I try to write poetry but it turns into songs 
tell a story, a feeling 
put bleeding hearts on blank paper spaces, embrace it

maybe the only ones who will ever like my poems
can all hear the music

Caramel Cream

My poetryโ€™s bad and I blame it on you. How am I supposed to write like Sylvia Plath when all I have in my sight this dark velvet night, is your caramel cream colored eyes.

You say put down the pen, honโ€™. Slip in your laces, letโ€™s go all your favorite places, letโ€™s put some dollars on the races.

Iโ€™ll chase you, race you, through the small town firelike twilight, youโ€™re the highlight, darling, sippinโ€™ on that sparkling white crystal.

Where is my mind?

If I wasnโ€™t so fucked up I think Iโ€™d write about every little thought on my mind. Let you see it all. Light it up baby, let it shine like a million dollars worth of diamonds on every corner of my chaotic mind. All the flaws and all the scars, all the fucked up compulsive thoughts.