i pulled off layers of myself
skin, muscle, fat
until white luminescence shone through, poking out of whatever pale covering I had left
i was so sick, i was dying
i loved it

now everything's been injected back in,
and i'm filled like a sasauge casing that's too small for it's contents, about to burst at the seams.
stretch marks like lightning strike all over
only emphasizing how much i've been stretched and filled.
my thighs chafe and my legs jiggle and my stomach has too many rolls to even count at this point.
my jaw has lost it's point, smudging the space between my neck and my face.
everything is blurred and slurred now, no longer sharp and extravagant,
no longer enviable and eye catching
but hey, at least i'm not dying
*and I hate it

A kiss evokes eloquent poetry
Each line recited in harmony
It’s a silent symphony of souls
Feelings sway in an ecstatic stupor  
A new world becomes a reality
Where just two souls find abode
A poetry chronicled by the confluence
It’s a masterpiece

Rest awhile on this bench,
Let your woes subside,
It's there to be used not admired.
Where is everyone rushing too?
Running this way and that.
What is your hurry Mr.nobody?
Can't you see that there's no turning back.
Stay still as a duck in rushing waters,
Ponder for a moment or two,
They can see tired eyes falling,
Stung by what you deem the best of the rest.