Not all roses are red.
Violets are actually violet.
Facts ruined this poem.

Things your love is like:
a) a river
b) a soldier
c) the rain
d) the ocean
e) a room
f) a sugar rush
g) a drug
h) a flower
i) bad medicine

Bitter cold,
my favorite kind.
There’s a stillness
and silence
in the bite
of the chill
arctic air.

Midnight – “Extra hour tonight!
w00t! Gonna stay up late!”

3:00am – “Is that the old
time or the new time?”

6:00am – *glrbl blrbl*
“wha-…Wha’happened??”

All day Sunday –
“What day is today?”
“Sunday!”
“February?”
“November!!”

Following Monday
*o_0*…..*=_=*…….*O_O*

I’d rather tilt
at windmills than sit
idly among the real
and material.

A black feral cat staring me down
While the white dog chases a laser

Paper lips are fragile;
easily ripped and torn.

But the words that pass
through them can border
on the devine or
the most hateful of scorn.

anxiously awaiting
the Mars landing’s
seven minutes of terror
in much the same way I did with
seven minutes of heaven
when I was a teen.

Si ville der digo
Fortebus es in aro
Dem nobus es
Demis trux
Sit ininem
Cusandux.