In the pale white light
    Fine Flowers in the valley
She learned of child to come in the night
    The green leaves they grow rarely

The night came sooner than expected, it did
    Fine Flowers in the valley
She went to the clinic and did it in
    The green leaves they grow rarely

Walking down the street she saw a child
    Fine Flowers in the valley
And saw the love they shared and smiled
    The green leaves they grow rarely

Shadows dance around and round,
Into the wall my head does pound.
My wrists lie bare to the floor,
My brother enters through the door.
He finally sees what he always saw,
Except now open lies his filthy maw.
The pain I cause is worthy today.
Now I lie here, finally slain...

My Lord, all the time in the world is mine,
And this coy mistress ensures it is not thine.
Nothing lies between us, sir. I guarantee
That no lovers day is set for thee.
Stay thee by the river Humber and complain
I will mind my own Ganges’ plane.
Keep espousing your lover’s lies
For I know what you hide.
You seek no more than each breast,
And none of the heart and soul within my chest.
That is why thou has so much time for ***
And not a second to wait, so you sit, vexed.
That is why you will wait till the last age
To see any hint of skin, much less my heart that for thee I have caged
In cold steel awaiting a better man to warm it.
One who lifts me to Heaven and is humble with wit.
Your love is no dignity or boon,
It is the disgraceful advances of a lustful ****.*

At your back there is a winged chariot, you say?
That you hear closer every day?
That is vengeance coming for a man such as thee
To place you in the deserts of eternity
That you say I should fear.
But do they not place me away from here?
And my beauty?
I would think one such amazing lover would be it his duty
To see that, once again, I am more
Than a pretty shell on the seashore.
Do you not see the little creature inside
The gracious heart beating, so dignified?
Why do you seek this dignity so desperately?
If you truly loved you’d see we’re better separately.



You speak of time devoured
I assume in the love-making of every hour.
Like the birds of prey you mention
I’m sure your hunger matches its conventions.
Your intentions are amorous surely,
But such things from thee I do not hold dearly.
You seek to devour me at once
And at once you will leave me looking as a dunce.
So now each pore fills with fire,
But not with that of your perverted desires.
They fill with the flame of rage and disgust
That a gentleman such as thee would these matters discuss
After being answered. I answered thee clearly too,
And rejected your pursuits.
I choose to languish this slow power
For it is better than languishing in you, overpowered.
Once more, I say I would rather run with the sun
Than stand still, and be undone.

She died trying
In that old house
She died there

Where each footstep would creak
Like here aged bones
And bend like her back to time

Where each window was broken
Like her will
Knowing nothing

The words I have shall never sound, and
The actions I wish upon thee will never land.
You think you have the upper hand
But you know nothing, sad and foul.

I am dying can’t you see, I’m
Wilting before your eyes.
You must change quickly, or should I
Make me blind what darkness I see?

I fight death, not planned of course.
It is in the moment he comes.
Changing patterns mid-poem?
You’d understand if you noticed my mood swings
And all the other little signs.

But you don’t try...
Just another reason why.

When you see the heroes
In the shows we watch
With all of their special powers
That wow us “top notch!”
You wonder if they exist here...

We are those heroes

Each of our own style and kind
Writing stories and emotions and rhymes
Doing what others cannot do
We turn feelings into
Words

But each hero is not without their weakness
You see most of us write because we cannot speak
What we want to say
And hide the things we write away
We are nothing there

But here, we are the heroes.

Can I give a girl anything  
Except what she wants

I’ll have you know why I did it
He spoke
I could not stand his existence

I’m not crazy
I simply awoke
Bloomed like an undead daisy

His bones they are broken
And blood it is spilled
And afterwords I did softly stroke him

I told him of my will
For the world
And whomst I would ****

This happens when I grow bored
I attack and quickly so
It’s how I was born

God made me so, I know
I cannot change the fact
That I have grasped my next victim’s throat

And that’s that.

I write mostly for acceptance
That much is true
But mostly it is
To escape

My kind is a terrible place
Dark business
Unproclaimed and without much ado
Scarred by Evils omnipresence

While they write of love that is true
I write of darkness’ admittance
Despite its bitter aftertaste
I never seek repentance