Rainbows – but I think only I can see them
Maybe it’s these glasses
Everyone says they’re rose colored
And maybe they are

But I see every color
Every color of every sunset
I see the pink, the orange, the joy
I see the purple, the blue, the melancholy
And I see it all fade to absolute blackness

But even then I know that in the morning
I will see every color of the sunrise
All these colors that are like one to me
The color of life
And I never want to take these glasses off.





~All that can be heard is the squeak of flip flops
In the wee hours of the morning.
~As she succumbs to the sleeplessness
And the heat
And the pain in her heart that she refused to acknowledge before.
~She looks up to the stars, wishing that one would fall
And shed some light.
More light than this street lamp.


If there were not days shrouded in mystery,

Questions without answers,

A future enveloped in uncertainty,

What reason would we have to live?


With no hand to hold,

No destiny to see,

No plans carved in stone,

We embrace the fullness of life.


Dancing on the winds of fate,

Knowing that such winds can bring us anywhere –

Careening down to darkness in the beat of a heart,

But soaring to new heights of joy in the blink of an eye.



I saw you, and I saw a story.


So many things brought you here today, just as they brought me.

I picture your history – filled with love and pain and the determination that led to the breaths you now draw.

And it seems to me that the souls you harbor beneath those shells of a body aren’t altogether that different.


I saw you, but I didn’t ask you for your story.

For I imagine it is much like my own.

Killing the Fire


How do you put out a fire without water?

Without dirt to bury the flames?

It’s too hot to contain in your hands,

So hot you feel you’re already burned.

All you want is to be rid of it forever.

But whenever you get close, it scorches your soul.


If you turn away, memories of the heat are inescapable,

You find yourself drawing close once more.

Always, there is a strange hope that perhaps this time the flames won’t burn,

Maybe comforting embers will warm you instead.

But the sparks still fly and the smoke stings your eyes.


There’s only one way to put out a fire like this.


Smother the glow with hours and months and years.

Then one day you’ll look back at that corner of your heart that used to be ablaze, and only see darkness.

The cool, calm darkness that accompanies peace.