Turning Into Flowers - A Collection of Poetic Thoughts

Chapter Three

I Saw Myself

They asked me what I loved

I forgot to tell them poetry

Eyes haven't seen my naked skin

Fingers have not combed through my thoughts

It's been so long since my soul has loved another

I stopped writing, each day melting into the other

He asked me if I was a poet

He could tell by the way I spoke

He read my words and my heart lit up

I opened up to him like a flower

The next spring night my pen turned the pages black

The same lined pages that sat stale

Waiting for a story to drink

I am a poet again

Not because he asked me

But because he saw me

And I once again

Saw myself

Power of the Moon

Do not underestimate

The power of the moon

For we are made of water

It pulls us like tides of the sea

Do not underestimate

The power of me

For I am a child of the moon

And you are lost at sea

With Pieces of my Broken Heart

I filled the lines

With pieces of my broken heart

Shattered across the floor

I rearranged them

And I pleasantly found

That they fit so perfectly

The way they circled and turned

To create the words

I needed to read

You Make Me Question

You make me question

What lives in my soul

Like a moth

You flock to me when I am light

And when its dark

You guide me through the trenches

Am I good for you?

The way I'm bruised and stitched together

Or does my black and blue paint me innocent?

I reach for you as the ocean does the shore

Do I need saving?

Or will my feet touch the sand after I fall?

Look me in the eyes

The window to my soul