these things shape us, a poem by Emily Jane Burton
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These things shape us,
and from this, I bloom,
adding life to my soul,
extending my roots.
Times of insecurity,
finding myself in discomfort,
experiences nourishing me
instead of withering me away.
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these things shape us

fragile and failing, a poem by Emily Jane Burton
Recorded 3.20.18
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Sometimes fragile objects break
sometimes these situations we embrace
sometimes certain things are hard to face.
Though,
it's okay to cry,
to hurt is to be alive,
to give up is to not survive
to not live fully.
And failure can somehow
mean success.
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fragile and failing

red rose, a poem by Emily Jane Burton
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There on the bedside table
lives a delicate red rose,
and I breathe in its scent when I can.

There is love in its petals
and peace in that moment,
the fragrance of the day.

You don't have to do gestures,
you don't have to give me the world,
I already have your heart.

The joy in your laughter
the warmth of your hands
the passion in your eyes.

I have it all and more.
The enchanting rose lives
but will die like all the rest.

Though, do not mistake this,
it is no symbol at all,
our love will forever live on.
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red rose

all I have to offer, a poem by Emily Jane Burton
Recorded 4-10-18. Released 4-13-18.
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All I have to offer
Are my emotions
But what is that
To anyone else?
Do I help you feel
Or make sense?
Do I offer more
Than I realize?
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all I have to offer

Poem by Emily Jane Burton, photo by McKinley Law
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I’m high on
moments and melodies.
I’m high on
the sound of your laugh,
on the scent of the
flowers you’ve given me
throughout the years.
I’m high on
how at home I feel,
on how we soothe each other
through life’s kindest
and most challenging times.
I’m high on
your sweet morning kisses,
on how I get to
wake up next to you.
I’m high on
the cliches of love,
and that’s quite alright.
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high

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emily's thoughts on poem-songs

Poem by Emily Jane Burton
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Hiccups at 4 a.m.
I'm easily distracted.
Wasting time until
the next wasted day.
I'm not sure why
I do the things I do,
why does anyone
do anything?
You think I'm mad
but you always think that.
When we fight we tend
to skip to breaking up
or lack of love or something
like not good enough.
That's not the love we portray,
so why do we think that way?
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why do we think that way

the first signs of letting go and being free, a poem by Emily Jane Burton
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Run your fingers
across my porcelain skin.
Connect my freckles and
notice the symmetry of me.
Love, it's been a while now,
and I might be used to you.
Lose yourself swimming
in my sea-green eyes.
Fear don't you linger here
no more (my heart is not your home).
This is not certain
this may be,
this is most definitely
the first signs of
letting go and being free.
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the first signs of letting go and being free

"let feelings pour," a poem by Emily Jane Burton

—

Let feelings pour.
Have you noticed
it happens like this?
You're on your way
to work and out they
come to haunt you
those little streams
to remind you that
back in January
you drowned in a 
flood of heartache,
which lasted for two months.
And then, you were
"supposed to" get over it.
But you didn't.

Instead you ignore,
avoid it, get angry at it,
that it's keeping you,
choking you,
finding a home
in your subconscious.
Tiring your body.
Weakening your bones,
your will to move foward.

You grip the wheel,
don't want to feel.
But you must.

We all heal eventually,
it's okay you're still
in the process.
But you must face it,
and let feelings pour.

—

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let feelings pour

foolish book, a poem-song by Emily Jane Burton
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Poem:
I can't read you anymore
The pages of your book have been torn
The words, no longer there
It's as if you never cared
The pieces on the floor
Wishing for something more
I swept them all away
Now what do you have to say?

The ink was never spilt
The feelings never felt
Your spine is starting to fold
You will no longer hold
The love will fall apart
Before you ever give away your heart
I should have read the title first
Before I opened this book
For the worst
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foolish book

Poet, Poetry Singer, Author of "From This, I Bloom," available on Amazon.