At my Age, to gaze at this Crumbling Glass
Must content me to say when to let-go
Of my Battles, that of Mum's Great Compass
Swore her Tears to what I already know
I guess that Vision, mirage as it is
And bake the Dough whose Bread I un-consume
With your Dust - suave - charm the Summer Belles since
Fan Frosted Wings faster than I could fume
What happens now? In this doomed, bloody Script
Must force me to tear-off my Snowy Mask
Painful my pores feel; My Heart goes to crypt
Then deny the Tender I so Long ask.
When Right is Wrong and Wrong seems all but Right,
Throw punches to a Face I could not fight.

Another "F" stuck to my pride.
Teachers calling parents.
My grades began to slip.
Don't ask me why.
Another "F" was given to me
innocence is gone.
There goes virginity.
Another "F" goes away.
That's for all my friends.
They don't bother to stay.
I did need them.
Another "F" fixes the truth.
A boy pretended nothing happened.
He faked ardently feelings.
Another "F" is what I am.
I am the fool.
Fuck it.

Technology in upheaval my beer is full.

Sex fills my mind with pheromones while half my hand goes limp.

I can’t feel, and nobody can feel me.

This perplexing relationship is mute resting in a lull.

I go away soon. My brain sees the afternoon and never more sooner do I go lunar.

It’s a language fight, who has the right, I might, with delight I entice the ever bloated fat cat with money scats coming from three throngs of bludgeoning

It’s turning into a symphony  you seeing me, me seeing me, you seeing you, you blowing who. sucking the dmca from the caves of cum filled futures of virus infected tri-elected future tumor leaders.

Fuck the breeders!  Heaters is what I have, Fucking for the slave pit to go desolate into it, feeling the kit in it my slit, that which you lick. I hit and quit with quite the light of resolution and destitution upon your innovations of new year munitions.

It’s a fucking mind game, stop asking and stop doing the same.You have it [answers] in your hearts.

Is it summer or is it spring will it rain or
Will the sun continue to kiss my long torso and petit feet?
Storms always seem to blow over in the Midwest as a dog bounces right past me, gives me a look and goes completely, merrily on his way. He doesn't seem to concerned about the weather.
Nor, should I be. I am going to stay put and ignore the neighbor. He's dying  to talk to me and I won't even lift my head to see the noise he makes in hope of a turn
He'll never receive the bone he is looking for, this dog on a mission his fur all damp and wet from a swim. His ears floppy and tail short if he comes by again and gives me a wink, I'll know the coast is clear from whatever task is complete.
  My book is in the car which isn't terribly far but to leave my seat and get on my feet seems like such a chore when the wind is blowing my hair and my green tea can cold a pack of cigs and I think I'm already gold. The book can wait, it's taking a twist Maria doesn't seemed too concerned about her lovers death but consumed by the clandestine love affairs when all the glares she thought were hers were now shared with a shoebox full of letters, cards and daring pictures along aside gift cigars.
The lake is calm I'm happy I'm here rather than the busy streets where I'm always on the go but instead I can kick back and enjoy taking it slow.

Is it summer or is it spring will it rain or
Will the sun continue to kiss my long torso and petit feet?
Storms always seem to blow over in the Midwest as a dog bounces right past me, gives me a look and goes completely, merrily on his way. He doesn't seem to concerned about the weather.
Nor, should I be. I am going to stay put and ignore the neighbor. He's dying  to talk to me and I won't even lift my head to see the noise he makes in hope of a turn
He'll never receive the bone he is looking for, this dog on a mission his fur all and wet from a swim. His ears floppy and tail short if he comes by again and gives me a wink, I'll know the coast is clear from whatever task is complete.
  My book is in the car which isn't terribly far but to leave my seat and get on my feet seems like such a chore when the wind is blowing my hair and my green tea can cold a pack of cigs and I think I'm already gold. The book can wait, it's taking a twist Maria doesn't seemed too concerned about her lovers death but consumed by the clandestine love affairs when all the glares she thought were hers were now shared with a shoebox full of letters, cards and daring pictures along aside gift cigars.
The lake is calm I'm happy I'm here rather than the busy streets where I'm always on the go but instead I can kick back and enjoy taking it slow.

Is it summer or is it spring will it rain or
Will the sun continue to kiss my long torso and petit feet?
Storms always seem to blow over in the Midwest as a dog bounces right past me, gives me a look and goes completely, merrily on his way. He doesn't seem to concerned about the weather.
Nor, should I be. I am going to stay put and ignore the neighbor. He dying to talk to me and I won't even lift my head to see the noise he makes in hope of a turn
He'll never receive the bone he is looking for, this dog on a mission his fur all and wet from a swim. His ears floppy and tail short if he comes by again and gives me a wink, I'll know the coast is clear from whatever task is complete.
  My book is in the car which isn't terribly far but to leave my seat and get on my feet seems like such a chore when the wind is blowing my hair and my green tea can cold a pack of cigs and I think I'm already gold. The book can wait, it's taking a twist Maria doesn't seemed too concerned about her lovers death but consumed by the clandestine love affairs when all the glares she thought were hers were now shared with a shoebox full of letters, cards and daring pictures along aside gift cigars.
The lake is calm I'm happy I'm here rather than the busy streets where I'm always on the go but instead I can kick back and enjoy taking it slow.

Truth - That trifling curse.
Once you ignore it, it goes,
When you believe it, it shows,
You the soul of the being,
That stands before you.
You are capable of seeing,
The person that IS true,
To you and only you,
And to deny the truth shining through,
You risk the need to start anew.

But what are you to do?
Run Away?
Swim the ocean, blue?
Say adieu to the truth?
Destroy all that grew between us two,
Until all is burnt,
And I’m left clawing at the rubble,
Searching for you...

And you accrue some new friends,
Some straight up ‘true’ friends,
That will never try and unleash the real you,
That will only make you do what they do,
That will ‘cheer up’, cover up and conceal you,
That will always restrain, contain and enslave you,

That will always...That will never...truly...love you...
Not the way I do...

I love the real you - The face behind that mask.
None will ever take up the task of,
Reversing all the hurt you felt and allowing you to FLY FREE.

The task is too difficult, and it is plain for all to see,
Because first YOU must open up to the possibility,
That someone can love you for who you really are!
Not just the bits that you let them see.
You can’t believe that this is the happiest you can be

There IS more out there.
More to like.
More to love.
More to FEEL.

But it’s hard to feel when you hide inside a shell of yourself.

I tried to make you happy,
But obviously I can’t. I was foolish to try.
Only you can make you happy - by being your true self,

Then...if you want...please...be true to me...

April 2013