There are days when you talk to me and tell me that you missed me at some event or over time and maybe sometimes other people did too and I feel like crying because I think, “Thank god. Thank god they notice when I’m gone. I am not absolutely nothing.” It is better than any compliment you could ever give me.

Of Kings and Crowns

We are all kings
With crowns upon our heads
Walking through our kingdoms
Of horror and dread

But with each king
Comes a price for his crown
So that he has his place
To feel safe and sound

When kingdoms collide
And walls broken down
Are when wars break through
The guarded heart of the crown

It is inevitable, you see,
For kingdoms to fall
Staining crowns with blood
And breaking down walls

Cigarette Nights

There’s something different

In the stars tonight

Do you see the way they shine?

They glimmer and glisten just like before

But the stars won’t say they’re mine

Before, long ago, years back in time

When I wore my hair in braids

The stars would sing a lovely song

Calming me with their aid

But tonight it seems there is something wrong

In the way they hold their light

It has been dimmed and filtered through

Just not as calm, just not as bright

Could it be the clouds beneath

Moseying right along

Forgetful of the eyes below

Searching for a heavenly song

Or could it be the smog in the air

Created with careless intentions

Pushing away the beauty of the world

With futuristic inventions

Or could it be these eyes of mine

Gazing at these stars

Growing older by the day

Wiser than cigars

It’s then I realize what’s filtered me

Stealing away my lights

It is, in fact, my own free will

Exhaled on these cigarette nights

Anonymous asked:

If ghosts exists within your walls, walking nightly in your halls, would it be so out of order, to give your doors a salted border?

Not if the ghost is friendly, you see

Looking out and watching me

Going about their lengthy days

Wasting time in their ways

No harm has come

No harm has gone

Besides, a roommate

Can be some fun

It makes nights less lonely, you see

The voices around keep for company

It’s startling yes, I do admit

But I rather not to throw a fit

They were here long before me

So I shall continue to let them be

The Morning Ghost

I listen to the morning ghost

She’s fumbling around downstairs

Cleaning, probably, doing dishes

Braiding her lovely hair

She walks in circles through the house

I hear her footsteps make their rounds

She’s so confused, her furniture gone

She hears so many startling sounds