Cold

I step outside
The cold engulfs me
I keep walking
It gets worse
The cold stings and
finds it's way to every part
of my body
Every piece of exposed skin.
I breath in
It hurts
It wants to freeze my lungs
I close my eyes
But keep walking
I finally get inside
After what felt like years of cold
It takes a few moments
For my body to thaw
And get circulating again
Warmth
I dread the moment I'll have to walk out again
It's called Winter.

Writing

Writing.
it's not really simple
to write
You have to
think
feel
be.
You have to
rewrite
again
and
again
Writing isn't just words on paper
it's meaning in words.
Writing is life.

Funny Poems

Why doesn't anyone write funny poems anymore?
Like about apples.

Being

I am
I am no one thing
because I am pieces of everything
of words and meaning
of books and music
I am unique
I am of
art and creativity
of
writing
of everything
I am
I am whatever I want to be

Singing

[cough, cough]
I look over the sheet one more time
I hum the pitch
I breath in
I do it like the worlds ending
I put all my emotion
the words
the meaning
the feeling
the music
I sing and I sing
I scream it out
not caring what I say
Just saying it
I know I'll get it right
I smile
I take a breath...
and do it all again.

Concert

Bright lights blind me
uniform suffocates me
nervouness engoulfs me.
She steps onto the podium,
rest position.
She brings her hands up,
play position.
The first note.
The music flows out of me like
an overflowing glass,
I can't hold it in.
The sound mixes and melts together
like rich chocolate.
It's beautiful,
it's done.