Danielle Martens

You were my first.
My sweet nothings,
and first kiss.
I cannot help but
...

Love is something that
must be experienced.

Words cannot describe it.
...

Google my name
and you find entries
of others with my name
but not my face.
...

The pounding in my head,
a heartbeat,
a distraction
that keeps me away
...

If I could, would
I capture time, like
fireflies in jars,
or would I let
...

Words are a dangerous
game to play. They
are the weapons
forged from unformed
...

Unformed ideas,
vague concepts
in my head.
They bounce and
...

The almost absolute
silence that shrouds
the mind and arranges
the day’s thoughts
...

The bird, desperately
hurls itself at its
cage. Its wings,
frail from misuses,
...

My heart beats
slowly, almost not
at all. The blood
in my veins is
...

Bonds, like chains,
are not easily formed.
They must snake
themselves around
...

The soother of the soul.
A combination of notes,
arranged with a touch of
beauty. Gifted are
...

Don’t judge a book
by its cover.
Beauty is in the eyes
of the beholder.
...

A field of green,
split four ways
by a crossroad.
One leads to the future.
...

Made of thin paper
for little girls.

Elegant.
...

Random happenings
that spice up the day
and stick with us.
They make us laugh,
...

Words laced with tears
crush the wall of hate
I built to separate
myself from you.
...

The Alpha.
Birth. Life.
The Omega.
Death. Decay.
...

A thief, cursed to live
forever, is born again
and again
until she can no longer
...

The little things that
make a heart melt.

Or the things to look back
...