Another sleepless night for me


Warrior, Poet, Lover

Anyone can know me,

I’m written out right here

Come on in and read me

Revile and revere

This twisted little pixie

This vapid vapor dream

Read quick or you might miss me

-I rise above like steam

And steaming teaming loudly

I cry out loud for you

I bear my wounds quite proudly

Like warriors often do

See this one comes from loving

And this, and that one too

And I feel the next one coming

And that one comes for you


Written tears

I don’t wanna sleep

Don’t wanna dream

I cannot quite keep

Together at seams

I wanna go run

Or break down and cry

Turn face to the sun

Or take up and fly

But the night is too cold

My children asleep

So I write untold

Secrets and weep



I want to speak quite plainly

Give voice to what I must say

I want you to come out and reach me

I want-to do the same

I cannot speak more plainly

Than what’s given here to rise

For wants and needs won’t save me

As they’re so often left denied


5 responses »

    • I think maybe that’s how a lot of writers respond to pain. It’s what we know, so it’s what we do… I never really concidered myself a writer or a poet until recently. It was just “something I do to get by”.

  1. So much longing!@

    Man if only we all could speak PLAINLY it would hurt but we wouldnt have all the loneliness and the tiptoed hurt and pining any ofit we’d be able to confront and move on, love live and focus on the beauty you know? But we’re always running!

    • lol, I am a bit of a rare one. I chase my demons down and eat them up, giving myself fuel for my craft. If i chew them up and regurgitate them often enough, they can no longer haunt me. They’re nothing but ink on paper and text on a screen. I don’t mind transparency. I’m an open book, I don’t have anything in me I need to hide from myself, why do I need to hide it from others? (This is the bravado speaking, I actually am rather skittish and high-strung 🙂 )

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