Though it isn't written
When the time is given
For no wages or ransom
You would sell out the world

I wouldn't trust my life
I wouldn't keep my secrets
In a running faucet mouth

To the guy who called me ugly as I passed him in the street.
Thank you.

Thank you for proving my anxieties right,
Thank you for reminding me why I hate going out,
Thank you for pushing me 100m back in my 1000m race to self confidence,
Thank you for putting out the tiny spark I'd gained in my eye,
Thank you for reminding me that everyone lies,
Thank you for making me doubt the mirror all over again,
Thank you for quickly undoing all the hard work I've been putting in,
Thank you for being the only ******* comment I'll remember,

Thank you.
****.

once again, I threw myself to hell
faking every curve of smile on my lips
just to get other guy placed his hand on my hips
just kiss me tonight, do what he'd does
disinfect me from the lies he whispered
about how deep he was in love with me
make my body forget the way it yearns
for his touch everytime I undress myself
love me, love me more, and I promise
I'd say I love you and stay forever

The cathedral isn't in Rome
or the church on Mission Hill
Or even the earth

the cathedral is the soul
the inner being, behind the chatter of the mind

inside of me dwells all
that
is
and
all
that isn't

we can't find what we seek
outside of ourselves
only by looking within

does the seeker
meet the sought after

Me:

Pale eyes,

Big thighs,

and flat hair

Chest that resembles waves

And skin like the dead leaves of the fall



You:

Eyes like honey dew,

Artistic mountain-like figures your voice drew

You seem to be perfect, don't you?

With the way you batter your eyelids

and my lids, they cause hurricane winds



Rough draft copies of tragedies

My life a constant mixture of sin and sanity

You, you're trapped in vanity.



Am I a buffalo, with a targets on my sides?

You're bullet of jokes stings.

I bleed blood from my eyes



I wish I was the carcass now,

But the other half of me continues to go on now.

You seem to hate my posture

Hate the way my mouth cracks under all the pressure.

Sue, SUE, SUE, SUICIDE WHERE YOU ASIDE

from when I need you to wipe the tears, my eyes



Is it when I'm alone and vulnerable you seem

to want to comfort me?

I wouldn't blame you to not want to be seen with

The **** of the joke.



I do not like the way your larynx

lashes out to me

Like whips to a slave

Leaving scars, the words

My skin, the page.



But it's ok.

I'll take the pain.

After all it's just a joke

It's only a game

Even though your self esteem won't be the same.

Relax, don't go insane.

That's one of the joys (the pain) of being the **** of the joke