DreamJournaling

Write to me dear loveless and write to me, the loved and tell me all the stories that you’re dreaming of Tell me when you wake and tell me when you sleep each passing breath and moment please share, for me to keep Write to me the reckless and write, the pensive too letters of your passions and what you love to do Sign it with an “X” or sign it with an “O” write to me dear humans and let those feelings go.

Roses are dead violets are too cliche love poems don’t remind me of you I tried oh so hard to fall flat on my face so next time I see yours I’ll greet it with mace.

Just keep going, the blood pulses in your ears, you can barely see, adrenalin pushes you an inch further, one after another. You can taste the mud and sweat, your head is clearing and you hear them, they are screaming for you, the crowd is wild, but you try to focus. Pushing yourself to the limit, revving the engine, you kick it up a gear, the speed, your body buzzes with the heat. Helmet of black and green, goggles to match, the dust sticks to the perspiration around your mouth, time for the last round. The crowd wasn’t a crowd, not more than a dozen people, hit the donuts hard and don’t slide into the barbed wire, the camera

The wind is gone, You feel your wings failing, Every movement requires precise control. Your strength is fleeting. You begin to fall as you flutter your wings. Just keep going. Push yourself. Like a butterfly in the rain. Another wall to strike you down, To collapse your confidence, as you desperately try to stay afloat. Just one more. Fly on little sparrow. Be tenacious.“Flappy bird”

The sun has finally fled again, and thus fall comes around. Pumpkin, spices, cinnamon, orange leaves litter the ground. When I think of fall time, dear, my thoughts, they turn to you. and caramel apple lollipops, thanksgiving turkey stew. A fire roaring in the home, a big overstuffed chair. A book, a poem, written work, a warmth that we can share. Well my dear, as you may feel, October bites your nose. November tries to cure that bite, as turkey tummies grow. Every year the memories, of Autumn county fairs, excite me, even now, my dear, Though grey, has turned your hair. And so we sleep a long, cold night for winters coming soon. In June

    The moment before the curtain went up I felt my heart flutter, and tightened my grip on the silk cloth draped around my shoulders. The cape was the same violet color as the sequined leotard I wore. The crowd cheered, and the deep red (the color of blood, I think now) curtain rose. As i strutted on stage I smiled until it hurt, and threw my little cape to the floor. “My lovely assistant everyone!” More applause and whooping. The magician took my hand and kissed my cheek. As he led me to the box which I had “disappeared” in so many times, I thought this will be my last show. No more of this. I can go b

Poetry is food The soul of man consumes it Wonder how mine tastes.

The bite from the air Cause the glittering snowflakes To land in your hair.

Sitting in my class Do we have homework tonight? Shh, teacher's looking.