A dream doesn’t die because it has no truth. It dies because you fail to nurture it.

There is only one you. Stop trying to devalue yourself by trying to be a copy of someone else.

I now know how your angercame from skeletonsthat rattled in your heartand you couldn’t escape them.

If there is passion, let me feel its heat.I want my heart to beat fast,my breath raspy, my skin to burn.

I am lost in my world,invisible – unknown.Moon please lend meyour light that someonewill me see me.

I am a butterfly poetbirthed from painflying with the freedomof my verses.

I didn’t know the demonsthat walked across your memory.They came from the dustwhen you were at peacein your grave.

Foggy nights bring some comfort.He can get lost in the mistand there is no one to stare or question.

But the walls of my resolvemortared with stubbornnesshave been breached by circumstancesI cannot handle alone.

How do I learn to speakwhen silence is all I know?

I seek to be moved, my imagination reborn.Let me feast on poems that feed my hunger.

Let me live my final days whole.Let my memory remain that I might know love’s face.Life don’t unwrap me to be fed to scavengers.I want to escape into light – not exist in darkness.