puresauciness

I promised myself that I'd stop writing poems to/for people. But here I am again immortalizing my stupid confusion in ink/digital bytes....

~the last word in each line is the first word in the next line~

Ode to Beauty/Unspoken Words

Quietly beautiful like
Porcelain winter sun
Rises in her smile
On the lucky world beneath
Lies an insecure girl feeling for once complete

I miss your warm words
Comfort me when my fingers cannot
Subtract the miles between kindred souls
Dont need to touch to make flames

Burn over acres
That are nothing more than inches of air and opportunity when we speak
Home is where the heart is

So here in my own room, I am like a weary traveler, a tourist trying to make my way to you
There
Can you forever be a flare in the dark world
Leading me home


poor me.