Hey there,

I wrote these poems for a creative writing class, and they've turned into a couple of my proudest literary works. Feel free to read, or not, or to let me know what you think, or not.

This first one was inspired from getting writer's block on a song I had been writing at the time.

Invisible Beauty
We sit across from each other,
Our eyes locked,

But I can’t find you.

You’re beautiful -- I can feel it.
Your bright, blissful tones
Shine on me like a warm, inviting smile,

But I can’t see you.

As you twist me inside with perfect discord,
And bring me back
Into your embrace with resolution.
I can vaguely hear you,
But you’re just out of earshot

In a silent room.

You deceive me endlessly,
Tormenting me with your
Unexpected cadences and outbursts,
But it just makes me love you
More and more.

But where did you go?
Where are you now?
I would find you again if I had the chance,
But you’ve been lost -- to the night, to time,
And I just can’t feel you the same way

I want to feel the same way I did
When we first met,
But it’s been too long, and I
Can’t remember you.
You’re a song -- I know it,
But I just can’t write you.

I always loved this poem for the pure concept of it, and no, I have not seen Memento.

Why am I...


I look to my sides,
But the reason still isn’t clear.
The faint, ruddy tones on my hands, why should they
I look to the wet tile floor of this humid room, and see
Something oddly dear.
A puddle of red has appeared in this very sink, right here,
And stains have emerged on my pearl-white cashmere.

Perhaps, a spill of...
Tomato sauce?
Looking to the door I see more on the floor, spread out like a moss.
As to how this maroon sauce finds its way out the door,
I am at a loss.
But when I open the door, I am greeted
By an image in my mind forever
An unmoving man, through his cranium,
A hole put across.

My heart screams at me to run, run, run!
This tragedy could only be orchestrated by a
Terrible someone.
But, searching my pocket, I find
A smoking
My confused, innocent mind screams to me, “What have I done?!”
But another lurid, maroon streak on the floor says,
“This has just

Thank you!