We-Poets

She was supposed to be right; love was supposed to win, and the world was supposed to be a loving, kind place. That's what she was told; that's what she told herself. That's what she believed. I write because I was wrong, but mostly because love and kindness isn't. I write because I still have hope, and hope does something. When I've been in so much pain, when I write this poem in pain, Hope looks me in the eyes and says "do something." Hope can't fix everything, but when hope inspires to do something... And I see I wasn't supposed to be right, I was just supposed to do something after I was wrong.

Trapped. The feeling that swallows you whole As the plane touches down. No colour, no sound, Even the screeching of metal A whisper that settles Defeated on white mountain snow. From forever to endless A shattered horizon Impaled by the clamoring crags. It is cold in the valleys It is dark in the forests Where the pines steam foggy and ragged. A lurking, a prowling, A dread in the trees, In the spaces that lie in between. Do you see it? In shapes unkind and unlikely, At once both seen and unseen. Trapped. And knowing that no-one can reach you Where the ice fractures bright Under haunting green light. See its teeth white as bone Its tartarean groans From woods old since the sunrise was new.

The bile thick and sickly sweet Permeates my lips every time our eyes meet. There are lines, lies laced with hope threatening to escape with questionable intent. If I told you I love you, I'd need to repent.

If your voice ever cracked, from speaking your love for another that was the shell of flawlessness being broken by bravery and truth, that was the beauty of imperfection, because there's nothing flawless or perfect about love. Your love was yours, that you gave to me, through teary eyes, and I won't forget. You're not mine and I'm not yours, but we have a spot we meet at where we talk, listen and talk some more And even though we're different, I've never felt like our worlds were crashing or even colliding into another, it just felt like us finding solace we may not have even known we were looking for. And you've been really warm. Nothing is final, and I'm done trying to make things stay the same. if I keep trying to capture the sunset I'll miss the night sky. If our love doesn't last forever, we still have those nights where we were the stars in the sky. I know love is never enough, because enough is never enough, but right now all I want is to remember that teary-eyed

Upon a green monadnock ‘Neath schizophrenic weather Is in my mind aye-padlocked Midst queries of time’s ledger Soggy fries made memories Quiche of a chilly nature Tortellini treasuries? Nah, cake was best I’d wager Raindrops like small sunrises Weaving down beaten walkways Fences, sunburn, surprises Goose bumps find their feet ablaze Pages of a chapter-book Ink made from broken hemlock Spilled in joy that overtook Upon a green monadnock

You are the one that I love You are the one that I adore No one comes close to you No one can love the way you do No one forgives the way you do No one hugs the way you do You bring peace You bring comfort You bring healing to my soul You give me life Something I can live for You've changed my life forever And there's none like you You're one of a kind My best friend My savior And my creator

I run. I was born in the dawn, Pale child of the sun, Like my father before me Holding ash in my lungs, Like my mother, my sister, And their pyroclast veins, Until I tasted the ocean And the salt sang my name. So I ran. I ran to the north, To the emerald fields, To the bogs and the heather Of a land wounded deep, Where the streams are elegies, Where the mountains lament Their sons and their daughters Lives heedlessly spent. I heard songs on the marshes, So sweet that I drowned Under rains that fell endless And soaked through the ground. But the words were not mine, And I could not speak Their odes to the heartless Their requiem of peat. So I ran. To the north, to the north, To the cold, to the dark, Where longitude ends, Where maps have no mark. A roar in the oceans, A whisper in the woods. There is something here Just barely understood. In the clawing peaks, Across ravenous ice, In the furious rivers, In the cinderglow night, There is something waiting At the edges of sight And