I am-

I am
Unpoetic, for
Isolation built from self-paved
Solitude has wilted my writing's
Possibility for sweetness
And sugar-faked beauty,
But poetry is crazed
For a taste of
Vast feelings,
So here 
I am-

Too Long

 
It’s been too long 
since I wrote 
 by writing I mean for me 
not so another human can fawn 
over my words 
but so that I can feel 
each emotion being poured 
into a hand crafted image 

It’s been too long 
since I stopped
to really think 
 be present 
in my skin 
 my heart 
I forgot what I was like 
when I stripped all else 
away

detours

For every time I've failed, 
For every time I've screwed up, 
For every time I've said "I'm Sorry," 
And for every time I've not.

For every heart I've broken,
For every stone unturned,
For every one I've damaged 
Due to an action or spoken word. 

No, I'm not a loser.
I know I am no failure.
Some things take longer to learn. 
In the end, I'll have things mastered.

Regret? I've had aplenty.
Self-loathing? I've lived that, too.
Walked away too many times, 
Stepping closer to something new. 

I know where I'm going. 
I'm taking longer than I should, 
But these setbacks are not failures,
Only detours through Wisdom's Woods.